Lorenzo Vantaggiato
November 2002
Time has always mixed up my drinks,
imperatives and what I swallow.
I thank you my friend
for seeing in my eyes
certain things mirrors no longer reflect.
as it keeps slipping off my hand
ever since I lost you, Robert.
Ever since a whole treasure
of precious old coins
have been falling around,
rolling around.
Many people have meant to advise me
on ways to pick them up.
No use imagining one’s life
enlightened by truth.
The answer blowing in the wind,
where does it lie?
Is it really the same for each one of us?
No time for writing, my friend,
but one day or another I’ll see you again.
I’ll walk down the thoughtful path
leading to our lake,
such tender oasis of drifting sun
where I no longer go.
I’ll wear a grey coat,
dark thick sunglasses to hide
unburning eyes
as I already do.
Hands in my pockets, I’ll descend
confidently.
That anxious sigh I’ll rediscover
like our first time.
Maybe you won’t talk,
won’t even look at me.
I will know reasons
for your violating self-imposed silence.
And it’ll be like leaning on the fence
at
dusk,
attempting a smile
as I no longer hoped.
And maybe my right hand
creeping
towards your leg,
it’ll have a similar moment
to the left hand holding safely onto the rod.
Copyright 2002 Lorenzo Vantaggiato
This poem has been inspired by the song Canzone per Sergio (1977),
written and performed by Roberto Vecchioni. Although no direct quotations are
used, copyright and intellectual property are acknowledged.