I prefer shorter poems, free verse, lowercase letters, and no punctuation. I also write rhyming poems and sonnets, but those are difficult to translate. This poem, however, calls for a classical form; it is a private enchantment of mine...
That summer of 1969 in Venice still resonates within me... A Slovak boy, Mario, and an Italian girl, Laura – fourteen and thirteen years old. She had long chestnut hair and captivating eyes… We sat on a bank by a bridge in the evening, while illuminated boats floating on the lagoon. The song Sotto le stelle, Beneath the Stars, played from a nearby bar. I listened with amazement to that melodic speech, watching her charming gestures. I didn't understand a word, yet I felt a blissful warmth in my heart... Suddenly, heavy rain began to fall; Laura gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and vanished under the arcade of a weathered building. Just then, a shooting star fell... I have carried the imprint of her lips in my heart all my life.
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