Life has gone away.
And nobody can tell me where it is, now,
because I have never taken into my service
informers, spies or infiltrators,
except for these dreams
which every night, after vibrating
with a halting gait
from one memory to another,
immure me inside a cross.
Life is no more with me, now.
And I’ve lost my sight.
In fact the stars
are erased faces.
(Translated from Italian by Pietro Pàncamo)