Looking through the eyes of a child, watching the wrinkles
of life take over faces of love.
Settling back, feeling so tiny, rocking in an antique chair,
seeing the world in a special sphere, wondering what lies
in store in future years.
There are so many tranquil hours sitting under the grape
vines, eating grapes - seeds and all!
Enjoying moments of recall, wishing to go back in time and
relive it all over again, expecting everything to be the
same.
Gathering together family members, all sitting under the
vines of life, speaking fervent Italian.
Passionate, using their entire bodies to make a point or
argue a position.
Italian, flowing as a small child, sitting in a rocking
chair wondering at how quickly it all passed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful write about reminiscing on days of old. Beautifully written.