daniela manzini kuschnig' s weblog

Your voice

This word

that gives life to the clay

of my being

and pulls me out of the dust

of used up years

This word

echoing a Paradise

lost beyond the memory

of my youth’s dream

This word

kingdom of my last god

prayer and cry

of each replaced fibre

This word resounding

in the temple of my nights

and drawing me

to its source

Yes, this word

speaks with your voice

and it’s the one voice

perpetually

re-creating my hope

(translated by Rose)

Very nice, Rose! Franco should be flattered… I bet he is.