There are people outside
who are laughing, dancing, talking.
There are people outside
who are walking, loving, looking for.
The music is playing
and it arrives through closed windows
barred
not to make the enemy get in.
Time is consuming
the last flames of passion.
There are people outside
and I feel them
and I don't want to feel them
the music comes in
and I don't want to stop it.
Time is consuming
the last flames of passion.
The day is growing dark
and sadness frightens.
I watch the fishing lights
on the sea
and my eyes
are ice crystals
on the reflexes of the glass.
Time is consuming
the last flames of passion
and I am here
to hold the world
because I don't want it
to get in
but the music is playing
and I don't want to stop it
until the last flames of passion
will burn even that.

13.11.'13