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A Solitude Gloomier Than That Dark Horizon
When we are aged in body and mind,
most of us hurriedly close each window
wide open to Nature thinking of our end;
we feel cold and shiver 'though it's not winter yet,
will it come soon come and wound us with a sharp arrow?
Ah, we are helpless and feeble souls that fall to defeat!
A menace is a horrible threat if not a warning,
when we perceive it: does it awake all senses in disarray?
Can we hear strange and muffled voices from far away?
It's murmurs that mourn the cursed isolation
despising the awkwardness of old age to convey
the absurdity and behavior of their unfounded thinking:
who surrenders to fate and despairs, widens desolation
and accepts what is offered without hope for consolation!
And now we aren't able to hide inside
the constant fear that makes us tremble and display
anger when the hurricane devastates all in its way,
and staring at a minacious sky without light,
we don' ask for a truce and start dreaming after a while,
letting all escape to a distant realm of delight!
Woe to all who seek a solitude gloomier
than a dark horizon: it's unconceivable folly
believing that death is unexpectedly imminent!
Woe to all, don't wipe off tears without a cry;
we shouldn't be overwhelmed by doubt,
or any other thought entering our ear:
it's completely absurd to accept fright!
Copyright ©
Andrew Crisci
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