Marionette Dream Poem by Luca Menin

I want to talk to my soul
Ask him about the falling light, theatre of life
Of all the things that has never been said.
Wise and insane.
From the trees blooms spring
to my marionette dreams.
I shall laugh at my tragedy.
Oh marionette with your ventriloquist mouth
Shaking your legs in this flat land
dancing like crazy bees in the paved field of grain.
While your hands are sweating sawdust
Invisible, attached, holding at the rope, you will fall
Rolling like an arrow in the foggy air
You will vanish like the last swallows
Behind horizon of violet curtains.