Calypso and the Scent of July (Fiboquatro)

A hot summer stole my wish, unprecedented, like a silent thief in the night; although I adore the stars here, for they welcomed me as if I am one of them, yet, my heart longs for the city tower; I felt the night breeze…and silver moon above me floating patiently, it is breathing and breathing, with me; I’ve named the unnamed wild flower after me, climbing to a tree with sweet fruits, soon to be reaped by me. I should be writing the scent of July, as I wait for blue September, but I’ve no will to do it, for I’m worn out, without my love!