
You’re the window sometimes
To which address
At Night, when my heart shines
And modesty is in vain.
A woman who dreams of fate
It feels like a cyclamen
And she remains eternal girl.
Or how many times likeness
In me the ebbrietudine of the saints,
But you’re always in front of me.
Like a big cup
Good Blue wine.
In you, the poet is just a whisper.
– Alda Merini –
Ph : Frank Horvat : Judy Dent





