I look for the flowers of youth
between evanescent thoughts,
memories of the gone years,
blocked in old photos,
images of my mind
and it occurs to me
that fresh light, iridescent, of the day,
like a smile of my youth years.
The years are over like a breath of wind,
dormant between folds of memories.
Now all is darkened,
I would like to stop time,
at least for an hour.
Sand in the hourglass,
indifferent flows to my pain.
I collect the sea stones and shells of distant seasons.
I block the instant at least for a while.
Sand grooves in brackish streams,
the beach drowns in my sea,
when the west is blowing
and, sleepy, the hour is languishing.
My last tango of youth,
between bizarre waves,
I dance and abandon myself to memories.
Now in this cruel time
I sing Spring and the sunny summer
of my last tango.
In Greece, I untied my hair
or I held them in Penelope's knot,
I took stones from Corfù
and pink dawn,
when from the Parthenon,
like a goddess,
I went down to the sea,
and I unleashed there my long hair.
Over the past years,
I gathered the most beautiful memories
from the foam that, between shells,
fizzles with memories.
I browse my photos without shame
and I abandon myself,
algae in the hair,
still burned by the sun that consoles me.
I dance my wild tango
even before that the ungrateful season
tears the old walls of my prison.
By Franca Colozzo
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