Memoria Mnemosina

(Your faith isn’t bright in the shadows)
Knowledge isn’t shining in the young ones. Seneca
Memory, Mnemosyne, Mother of the Muses,
archive of the past, don’t let
my brain overheat
forgetting first the proper names,
then the common ones, and later the rest.
Memory, Mnemosyne, Mother of the Muses,
we start to arrive as soon as we can
at places where no one is waiting for us,
on time for the farewell
knowing that the end might start with this cough.
And how are we gonna manage
so that the aches don’t hold us back
so that the presbyopia and deafness
won’t condemn us to live with a nurse.
And how are we gonna manage, there must be,
there must be another way to be
lightening the pain that hurts a lot
and easing the pleasure that hurts even more.

Memory, Medicine, never forget,
you are the remedy of history,
Alka Seltzer of the past, aspirin of yesterday
when time isn’t counted by years anymore
and you fill the insolent clarity with gloom.
And how are we gonna manage, there must be,
there must be another way to be
lightening the pain that hurts a lot
and exercising the pleasure that hurts even more.