Dreams fly high
in the sky of wishes
driven by the winds
of our will
which, untiring, blow
and push you everywhere
tied to the thread of hope
which, strong, does not break
but they are papiermaché kites
and the tears
of those who surrender
are enough
to make them fall down
until the sun of the new day,
if we ever want to see it,
will dry those tears
giving them back to the sky.
27.6.’13
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
Dreams fly high
in the sky of wishes
driven by the winds
of our will
which, untiring, blow
and push you everywhere
tied to the thread of hope
which, strong, does not break
but they are papiermaché kites
and the tears
of those who surrender
are enough
to make them fall down
until the sun of the new day,
if we ever want to see it,
will dry those tears
giving them back to the sky.
27.6.’13
The original poem ("Gli aquiloni di cartapesta") is in Italian.
There is no good translation for a poem.
I apologize for mine. Corrections are welcome.
As far as the sound of the poem is concerned,
please, read the original poem.
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