AT THE HEIGHT OF A SUMMER NIGHT

 

… there is a profound stillness and the stifling heat soaks the night;

the street—like pain, deep and long—
rises to the neighborhoods where the moon is different
and a bitter cry unveils a thousand mirrors
of blows and innocence;

… with this placidity, won't freedom come to be…?

[no, freedom won't come]
… like a wild pleasure of light and blood,
songs resound through the warmest veins,
the sounds of friends about to arrive,
and reason sounds and hurts, the magnitude that ignores this gaze of mine
without rules or limits;

… and everything happens now, present and clear like the doorbell that insists and insists,
the one that is calling and breaking the clean and fresh waiting
suddenly set ablaze;

… I am going to open the door and I must do it carefully, very carefully;

My friends don't know that the walls of the house are on fire.

*** Antonio Justel
https://antoniojustel.com
***