I start under terrestrial pleasure scent
and I sleep at the spring from inside a thought
I search you under rupestre petal,
through angels' feathers flowing down to the Earth

I pass, waiting for you to come down from the stars
and then to ask for a wish...
Great were those moments we spent far away -
which were lost into a non-existential heart disease

Inside my heart love struggles,
night remains empty in the loneliness of souls
and I feel a fire burning your sight -
vanished by active ash dropped from the veins

The golden crystal on your sensual body
wants to melt ... and flows
on my frozen carcass; emptiness
comes, stops and runs beyond the rebirth of the stars