Twilight blue rebounds behind
A great ridge of color
Calling for man
To stand before the night

From a distance
Quiet but restless
The brazen foliage always falls
Darkness follows every time

I cannot sleep for in the street
A thousand mournful cries
The skies are red and carnage spread
Through a thousand lies

From mourning bells to fairy tales
A Criticism said
For city streets and summer heat
Torments whose left with dread

And clouds smother men as they roll in
A hard rain will come
Lightning strikes like the crack of live bones
And the hoarse words of Cain’s son

And I hear the cries of the
Children - the ones lost
In the dark

I know they want a future,
But I fear
They lost the spark

It was sundown
The sun had just set
The moon was out
A large white ball on the horizon
It almost looked surreal
Just hanging there
As if on a thread
Against a gray blue backdrop
Clouds painted the sky
Fluffy and white
With two openings
From which white bands of light shone down
It’s as if they came from heaven
Natures art
From the master
Of everything

To all intents and purposes
The king died on his throne
The court gathered in their masses
He was far from alone
Flanked by his truest knights
He tried to stand
And hail the throng
The mob sweetly
Took his breath
To sing
His final song.

One day I'll come home,
To bask in golden sun,
To swim in bluest waves.
Through wheat fields, I'll chase Persephone,
Knowing I can't save her,
Yet love will prevail—
Dramatic kisses beneath erupting Etna.

I long to meet among Greek ruins,
To explore Phoenician treasures.
I wish to be engulfed in the aromas
And candor of happy vendors,
Filling fresh markets all morning long.

I dream of your quietness,
And the loudness of passionate people.
I ache for home,
My sweet Sicily.

Sicilian translation:

Un jornu mi ritornu a casa,
A vagghiari di lu suli d'oru,
Pi nutari nta l'unni cchiù blu.
Attraversu li campi di frummentu, haju assicutari Persefuni,
Sapennu ca nun la pozzu sarvari,
Eppuru l'amuri privalerà...
Vasati drammàtici sutta l'Etna ca scuppia.

Anziamu di 'ncuntrari ammenzu a ruvini grechi,
Pi esplurari li tesori finici.
Vuliu èssiri nghiuttutu di l'aromi
E candor di vinnituri filici,
Riempi li mircati frischi tutta la matina.

Sunnu la tò quieti,
E la vuci di genti appassiunati.
Mi duluri pi casa,
Sicilia mia duci.