Cerca del cielo

If I could choose
just one wish
I would ask to live
always close to the sky,
in a sky as real
as the abyss,
in a war as cruel
as the one against oneself.

Will you consent
to someone who wants to live
like this, like this, like this ...
like Sisyphus?

Determined to climb, only to descend
on impossible slopes.
I did not give up and in the end I managed
to complete the fourteen eight-thousanders,
and still had time to shout at the stars:
"see what I am",
and that the rest is nothing
but pebbles falling into the void.

Just me against myself
and against the elements,
calculating to the millimeter
every slight movement.
My cross is made of stone
and faces the precipice.
I will continue until the end,
I will continue until Judgment Day.

Will you consent
to someone who wants to die
here, here, here ...
in the Alps?

And who climbs again, and then descends
on almost impassable terrain.
If I manage to move forward, maybe I can drown
something inside me that is inextirpable,
something that twists and does not stop
and will make me repeat it now:
when I have to die, I want to do it here,
CLOSE TO THE SKY.

And I cling to a rock harder than god
and the lack of oxygen clouds my mind
and I know a little more will be enough to save me,
a piece of truth will be enough to save me,
an inch will be enough to save me,
a single drop will be enough to save me,
a little peace will be enough to save me,
a piece of truth will be enough to save me.