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Who is my translator
In this foreign world?
Will I ever cross
The thermal baths
Of Bagno Vignoni
With a burning candle
To love on Earth?
Is it even possible to hold the candle
In this shaking paw,
In wobbling winds of war,
Between my freedom and my bondage…
In front of me are palm trees,
Kiwis of potato size, Lake Garda –
At the one place all memories are –
Where is the home now? Where is the tower?
The spring that seeps out
Between the prehistoric rocks,
Symbolic signs for the inner light,
white, blue, red, violet flowers…-
Are they interpreters of mine
On this uncertain spring day
On this undying mountain?
Painting “Foresta di frassini dove sai nome non c’è”, 70×59, oil, acrylic, Sara Maino 2022