Imagine …

At a monumental, very crowded capital square,

there is a gentle shade carrying the nostalgic scent

Of forests and orchards bathed by the sunlight,

of wild nature and juicy winter oranges.

An immaterial fresh touch, an intangible space,

hung from overlayered fabrics exposed to time.

Even if too far or too absent to, yet, feel it,

even if too broken to keep it side by side,

There is the faithful companionship of solitude,

mist landscape bringing back the lost childhood.

Under the silent chair of future shade,

quiet waiting for the sunrise, warming hands,

Hoping for the sunset, for it will free the oppressed chest.

Now, under your sweet shade...

Rest..