There are nights when I am alone. When the sky
is pitch black. No moonlight
or stars. When everything, myself included,
is engulfed by dense darkness.
When you can’t see an inch. The path between
the vineyards that leads to the village
cemetery. A red rose climbing a wall.
A black grape on the vine
in front of the house… When windows
become blind. When the soul wanders
without touch. And when, out of nowhere,
only a bolt of lightening rips open the darkness
for a moment, like a sharp-edged sword,
and a large golden question mark dangles over my head.
Translated by Mia Dintinjana