Poem II
Morsels of happiness
The fresh air of the autumn that caresses Ampezzo as melancholic Hapsburg notes of Strauss
The weeping willow I planted as a child, that now smiles over my head
A dance song that makes me writh in the disco while I scream like an idiot
Your hand that touches my neck while your gaze explores my soul
The memory of Pasqualino with straw hat smiling old after a day in the fields
The magical light of Malta that nourishes my eyes and wipes out all sadness
My nephews who run after me on Elba island
Giovannino Guareschi
And the smile of my mother that shines in the sky as a polar star
These morsels of happiness are enough to make my life worthy of being tasted