The Mystery of Fires
A red, hot fire that makes lava rapidly flow
from an erupting volcano, it's the earth's revenge towards Mankind...
to later die in the rippled waves of a steamy sea without glow.
The poet sweetly dreams, while the painter steals
from nature all the scenery of a breath-taking town suffocating
in the summer's heat, and all he sees is the hazy horizon and the mountains' peaks.
If the Inferno created by Dante is the cruelest, eternal damnation,
can the Purgatory's fires burn all the sins of the condemned ones and allow them
to enter Paradise...do they deserve this kind of hallowed glorification?
There's another fire more ardent than the real one ravaging,
it's the undying fire of passion, and that fire is as adventurous as a wandering ship...
always adrift, exploring and indulging, so limitless in scope: it never stops burning.
Do I have a fire that can't quench my spirit immersed in thoughtfulness?
It's hidden within me, where no one can see it , only doubt may put it out...
and if it lives beyond my death, my words will not quaver on dubious lips.
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