I am touched by the immortal kid
in the clear light of January
he has the soft walk of a god
and a cute female on the shoulder.
I heard him speaking with a strong voice
to the glittering guys with the jackets and the greatcoats;
He shakes now within the long hairs and in smiling
the partner gets tight to him along the narrow street.
Also you entered on the sly
together with others, with words and facts
already in the history, as the last game.
But the goal is unknown to you
And the time overwhelms you.
Umberto Piersanti (Italy, 1941 -) from Il tempo differente, Caltanissetta, Sciascia, 1974 – Translation by Slow Words
To read more about the writer and the poet (Italian language): http://umbertopiersanti.it/