Blowing in the Wind

A flying and gentle sparrow.

When the last
lights of a sunrise
disappear behind
a melody I hear
the song of
a beautiful sparrow,
the sound of a
rank and the rising
beginning now
reflecting the pain.

Francesco Sinibaldi

Prudence and the melody.

Arbours coloured
by a soft September
breeze delay in
the sunshine of a
beautiful morning,
and a loving
profile presents,
in a moment, the
taste of a dream.

Francesco Sinibaldi

The inner part.

The inner light
and the beautiful
and tender narrator
invent a mutable
moment, when
Christmas arrives;
I see a blackbird
singing the birth
of an ancient era,
the time of my
life, the care and
the reason.

Francesco Sinibaldi

At the Mercy.

In the resonant
cypress situated,
like a trembling
leaf, in the breath
of a novel and
innocent morning,
a sparrow alights
and always, in the
sun???s redness, a
delicate flake
discovers a dream.

Francesco Sinibaldi