Yet there’s no pain in your eyes,
dim is the strange breath I breathe,
coaching tears to fall,
tantalizing crooks of bread
instead of sharing.
far away from my brow,
keep me safe from your narrow lips
The cherry-tree becomes so tender
beneath that low sky
Give me back my hopes
Give me back my proposals
I’m red and mature to be haunted,
you’re my tragedy and my forgiveness
to be accepted instead of mercy.
Yet there’s no pain in your eyes
Federica Nightingale was born in Turin (Italy).She is a poet and translator.