In black and white photographs
There are times when we have real smiles
While playing Lacrimosa in my mind
There is an old book smell here
I leave myself to rustling leaves
I walk in the crowd
Forgotten in Signoria Square
With the souls drowned in the ashes of history
Of the old shimmery respectable nights that bring the paintings to life
Sorrow hidden in melodies
They are all humming around me
While hitting a glass from a glass
Dancing on the wire of the violin around the corner
Dukes and duchesses with their magnificent dresses