Tomorrow Triumphant

One dark
winter afternoon
I said, my love,
so that you would always know,
my heart
knows no geography
when it comes to you.

The friendly snow
gave my sad words
white rhythm.
Like simple gulls
their flight was tranquil.

I knew
you soul was calling them from afar,
and they flew toward you.

My heart  has no oceans.
I said.
It’s unaware of boundaries and mists.
It’s doesn’t know fog
and cities,
cities gray like swallows.
For my heart there are no rivers,
rivers that seek a never forgotten home:
the wide waters of the sea.

It doesn’t know geography,
I said,
It doesn’t know.

I remember those
winter words.
My heart then undertakes
long journeys
to the east,
always returning
in the bitter
and cursed afternoons,
sadder and more tired
than ever.
It drizzles all night
in my memory then,
and a salty star
sings its light in my pupil
at the hour of every dawning
when one awakens
a little bit younger than tomorrow.

Now I know,
devoid of geography,
my heart
wants to carry me far away.
It knows
you’re not with me.
It’s alone
like the north wind,
not yet accustomed
to the dawn
that always arrives with no one
if you are not with me.
It wants to carry me away
to where you await me.
But between us
are history and violence,
oceans, roads, mountains,
hunger and misery
that have yet to free themselves
in order to be free
as you already are,
my love.

It’s true
the heart of lovers
never knows geography
only how not to forget.
trans. by Barbara paschke
and David Volpendesta