ALMOST SUNG Poem by Davide Rondoni

It seizes its unlimited light December
when you open your eyes to me nearby,
nocturnal snow
strange sheen, frozen suspension
of branches
that were moans and now . . .

It seizes its boundless light the sky
if you call from the arches
of silence and in my body demand
what was blind and motionless
and from the terraces
of my pain you show yourself

you open your eyes and the light burns its edges
and even that which on my face
seemed hard and now . . .

It seizes its light of wonder the winter
when you come close and
everything is impossible, except the eternal.