Walking back
after midnight
on this Lampadusian*
night of nights
Sicily somewhere
on the right
the coast of Africa
on the other
not so far away.
We appear
to have lost
the moon.
How careless
of us.
But it either
can’t find us
or us
it.
Then, almost home
we almost swoon
there
there the moon
full & luminous
fallen down behind
some broken down houses
showing itself
naked as a lover would.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem