THE TOMB by Sandro D Fossemò
Translated by Luca Palantrani.

A skeletal hand holds a lantern,
to spread a glimmer across tombstones at night,
in that graveyard blacker than death.
I am tired of walking in the cold night light.

The rain bears a secret rhythm in the tinkle,
that resonates on the street through a pleasant melancholy.
No glow inside those spectres...
They wander in a darkness never seen before,
where the soul shines no more.
We are locked in the cage by this eternal sleep.
Most saddening is nobody feels any anger.

If I lived with people plenty kind hearted,
then I could shun so much pain.
If I broke a wall,
then I could stop holding on.
If I had a candle to perceive the smile of an angel,
then I could escape the frost.

When a candle lights a grave,
in the wind my shadow dissolves.
The flame purifies the funeral air
and inside me burns,
in that magical warmth that time melts.

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