by Sandro D. Fossemò
Translated by Luca Palantrani
(Translated from Italian to English)
Old gravestones bid farewell
to wintry gloaming,
past eerie black gate
of a cemetery,
guardian of dreams and mysteries.
Fluffs of snow
tumble on sepulchral monuments
like frosted tears.
Grieving hearts
weep crystals of blood
in hereafter.
Marbled angels,
who never were born
who never were dead,
silent, observe us from eternity.
Their majestic,
dazzling wings
descend from a timeless kingdom.
The snowy mantle
endows enchantment
to divine sculptures,
sole defenders of dead.
Howling of wolves
is a glorious chant,
for damned
in darkness buried.
O beloved skull!...
You who lies in abyss,
can’t hear devil’s melody
through the depths of hell?
Burning candles dissolve
the dim light
and warm bones
in snow veiled graves.
Gaudy chrysanthemums
shroud crosses
engraved in the soul.
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