"To the grown-ups when they were children,
       and to the children who are romantic"

                by Alessandra Novelli

Beautiful angel, shining angel
it's by yourself that you walk in the naked dawn
in the company of dreams to defend
invisible hands glide through your hair
and let your mind lose itself in the azure
because your body quivers like the one of a feline in love
at every sight of the rising sun
and your spirit becomes full and alive
with every gust of wind
because it's the ancient mood that bathes your eyes
and little traces of profound passions
the signs around your mouth
Oh yes, beautiful angel, enamored angel
you follow in the lovers' footsteps
and hide in the faces reflected in the water
like an amused creature
for whom the new day leaves its little game
like the sage who has understood
from where the world had originated;
you have the look that reaches far away
and the feet anchored in sand and time
but yours are caresses of velvet which no longer interest
and your voice has become scarcely a whisper
that gets lost in the steps of the first comer;
your breathing has become heavy
    my angel, desperate angel
you have the body pierced by millions of needles
and now you know what it means
to steal, to lie, to betray,
you know the art of the one who knows how to listen
of the one who succeeds in saying: I love you, without speaking
you had made of your life a precious jewel
which the envy of those who canít see
has recreated in plaster
only your reflection had been left to love
but it got lost in the silences
of those who no longer want to believe;
speechless angel, lonely angel
I wrote to you, beloved, understood
the replies are no longer warm and natural
and you wait in the darkness for another creative stillness
you tell of forgotten places and stories
awaiting someone who knows how to dream,
who knows how to listen, who knows how to understand,
who knows how to love
you tell of a grown-up who remembers being a child,
when he had a romantic gaze,
and curiously looked out upon the world.