Un malato di cuore [English translation]

"I began to dream with them

then the soul suddenly flew away."

As a boy spying the kids playing

at the foolish rhythm of your sick heart

and you feel the urge to go out and try

what you miss to run on the lawn,

and you keep your urge for you, and linger thinking

how the hell do they regain their breath.

As a man feeling the wasted time

spent letting your eyes narrating the life to you,

and never being able to drink from the cup in one gulp

but in small intermittent sips,

and never being able to drink from the cup in one gulp

but in small intermittent sips.

Yet I have donated a smile

and it still returns in every summer of its own

when I guided her, or perhaps I was guided

to count her hair with sweaty hands.

I don't think I asked promises to her eyes,

I don't think I chose silence or voice,

when the heart stunned and now no, I don't remember

if it was too much shock or too much happiness,

and my heart went crazy and now no, I don't remember,

from which horizon the light started to blur.

And in the mild magic of the grass

between long caresses on the face,

her pearl-colored thighs

remained maybe an uncaught flower .

But that I kissed her, this yes, I remember

with my heart on the lips,

but that kissed her, by God, yes I remember,

and my heart remained on her lips.

"And the soul suddenly flew away

but I would not dream with them

no you can not dream with them."