Nel Parco Sempione

Dreaming of you
while the sun dries my face.
Pretty red dresses
just to please you
attract the wrong bees.

The home of the shiny
has her spotlights on me
(or so it seems)
and has you looking the other way.

My love is wasted on you,
but you know, it's not.
It's my life,
it's the whole of me and all
I long to be.

Basta così!

If this is the last time
I'm kissing you goodbye,
let it be a perfect kiss,
one that flashes by when you die.

If this is our final moment,
leave out your looks of pity.
Just hold me, with your arms and
your awful eyes and find me pretty.

I wish me saying 'ti amo'
could make you want to say
'let's say goodbye for the rest
of our lives' and stay.

But you'd said goodbye
a long time ago.
Each new 'ciao' brings back the memories of the day
you first kissed me
and makes me wonder when exactly I scared you away.

If I'm never to see you again,
does loving you fiercely for a year and a day
count as burning up fast,
or did we fade away?

I wish me saying 'ti amo'
could make you want to say
'let's say goodbye for the rest
of our lives' and stay.

But you'd said goodbye
a long time ago.
Each new 'ciao' brings back the memories of the day
you first kissed me
and makes me wonder when exactly I scared you away.

What it's like.

So this is what it feels like
to love too much.
This is what it's like
to have your heart out on a platter
for him to discard.

To not be able to breathe
because whenever you think of him
the air around you turns into a thick fog.
And you think about him all the time.

This is what loving too much is like, then.
Wanting him close because that's the only time
that you're truly happy, the only time
that you don't have that constant feeling of waiting.

But at the same time wanting him far off,
because the longing to touch him, kiss him,
is far stronger when he's near.
And you know that you can't, that you're not allowed.

You want to know all about him, know
where he is, what he's doing, what's on his mind.
But you also want to cut him out of your life, for if
he can't be yours, you don't wanna know about his new girl.

So this is the agony of loving you, this is the joy of loving you.
So this is what it feels like,
for me, to love you too much.
Yet never enough, you deserve
all the love I have in me.
And you have it, take it, it's yours.

The color of sadness, the color of hope

I woke up without a clue of what day it was
and searched for you to kiss sense into me
and take my heart in exchange.
What will I do when even my daydreams start
showing me the truth, when I can't run
into oblivion and pretend you still care?

I feel cluttering summer water,
like memories of hope finding
their way up up down
about when I met you for real and you said
that our dreams were as bright as your lions,
when you were not wise and kissed me instead.

But I see autumn leaves and autumn will leave soon.
colors spread all around, like the rainbow
reflecting in my tears
and I find myself
wondering: what's the color of sadness?
and I find myself
waiting still,
waiting and wondering: what's the color of hope?

I plunge my fingers in your hair and drown
myself in your awful eyes.
You look away as if you were afraid to see
my longing once again,
making sense of the clearness my heart is.
You are alone, there.
You made the world smaller, made my world bigger,
you made the universe notice me when
my heart felt the big bang.
I want you for the rest of our lives, even though
eternity might become a touchable period too soon.