At the flower market(opera of Guido Borelli)*

Perhaps I had been there , gone
Time ago , since we are born, long
How again to go there,
To get the whiff of fragrant air,
Beside the River, beneath that arch,
How I go there only in search
Of a root of a Tree, my origin,
Yours too, as it always do seem,
Beside that river, beneath that arch,
How I go there, oft to search,
Our ways to find so many things,
Which carry newer meanings,
Each passing day how i evolve,
Though always around Thou I tend to revolve,
In search of our Origin,
You ,me and a lovey scene,
Painted or sculpted by awesome trust,
How I go there, go there I must,
Only to find my love, Isabel,
Whom have I left a story with, a tale,
Having such a romantic chasm,
That I find there my Soul, my Bosom
As it thrives, throbs as it,
How I go there, as if Thou, I wish to meet.

(*Note: upon a painting loosely based, as an extension of an idea of a novella, I am working on.paintingcourtesy : musicalita ed expressioni dell' anima)


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