Il vecchio e il bambino [English translation]

An old man and a child, hand in hand,

set off together towards the evening.

Red dust was rising in the distance

and the sun was shining with an unreal light.

The immense prairie seemed to stretch

as far as the eye can see

and there was nobody around

only the glum silhouette of columns of smoke.

The two walked in the waning day,

the old man was talking and crying softly.

An absent soul, his eyes full of tears

he was following the memories of lost myths.

Old people endure the ravages of time,

they're unable to tell truth from dreams

Old people's minds are unable

to tell truth from lies in their dreams.

And the old man stared off into the distance and said:

"Imagine this covered in wheat,

imagine the fruits and the flowers

and picture in your mind the voices and the colours.

And in this prairie till its very end

trees were growing and everything was green,

rain fell and suns marked

the rhythm of men and seasons."

The child stood silent with a sad look in his eyes

looking at things he had never seen

and then he said to the old man in a dreamy voice:

"I like fairy tales, tell me some more."