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  • Pino Daniele

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A stroll

The light was falling on the fragrant greens abloom,
When the old man walked under the moon.
So many times he'd try to stop someone to chat;
Alas, to have never found anyone to stop & listen back.
 
And he walks, he strolls by the harbor,
And laughs as he thinks: if death should come, it won’t be harder,
I would be happier for it, in a sense,
Because when I talk, no one listens.
 
Watching the sea, I think of Maria.
It's been three years she's no longer here,
But, I think about this every night,
Time goes by, yet I can’t believe it’s right.
 
And he walks, he strolls by the harbor at night,
And cries as he awaits death under the moonlight:
No one to talk to under the moon,
No one to listen to him under the moon.
 
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