La vida que yo veo

The life I see
longs for the extreme ends,
the Desert, the Jungle, and nothing more.

I see that September,
the one of the Red Ferns,
deplores its matter;
that it would have preferred to be
just Snow, Immensity, and Wolves.

I see that the Sun
dreams of pure light
and that the Night
longs for primordial times,
when everything was night.

I also look at my heart,
and I discover that its desires
unfortunately boil down
to two words:
the word Always,
the word Never.