Un malato di cuore [English translation]

I, too, started dreaming together with them,

then suddenly my soul took flight.

As a boy, spying on boys playing,

at the groggy rhythm of your ill heart,

and you start feeling like going out and trying out

what you are missing to run to the field,

and you hold back your longing, and you are left wondering

‟How the heck do they manage to catch their breath?”.

As a man, perceiving the time wasted

in having life narrated to you by your eyes,

and never being able to drink from the goblet at one gulp,

but at small, broken sips,

and never being able to drink from the goblet at one gulp,

but at small, broken sips.

Yet I did donate a smile1

– and it still comes back, in her every Summer –

when I lead her, or I was lead maybe,

to count her hair with sweating hands.

I don’t think I asked for promises to her gaze,

I don’t think I chose silence or voice,

when my heart was dazed; and now I really can’t remember

whether it was too dismayed or too happy.

And my heart went crazy; and now I really can’t remember

which horizon the light faded from.

And among the sweet sight of the grass,

among long caresses that ended on her visage,

those thighs of her that were the color of mother of pearl

were left as an unpicked flower maybe;

but kissing her, yes, I do remember doing it,

with my heart already on my lips,

but kissing her, by Christ, I do remember doing it,

and my heart was left on her lips.

And suddenly my soul took flight,

but I don’t feel like dreaming with them,

no, I’m not able to dream with them.

1. Meaning “Yet there is a girl who smiled thanks to me”.