JULY

The sad aria in the dark night,
vain fog of dumb glowworms,
is quiet for a moment.
A thousand of stars bright,
one thousand more could bright
but a lantern stops their smile.
I listen from this stone
the river flowing, the current, life jingle,
and under this peace
a sweet fear to suffer,
or viceversa.
The bookworms fly over the nearer bushes branches
and I remember "panta rei"...
This verses will die with me
but the river will continue flowing,
continuing the current that he makes since so long time ago.

I smile.