What is going to be of this vital breath
that is burning in the whispers of lover’s nights,
spinning in the folly of poets’ dreams,
flowing in the tears of mothers’ tenderness,
hoping in the confidence of children’s weakness,
shining in the faith of believers’ prayers.
A force that we can’t restrain because it’s impossible to rule
what has no wisdom and doesn’t want to have,
what has no price and doesn’t want to have,
what has no reasons and doesn’t want to have,
what has no barriers and doesn’t want to have,
what we call love.
How can it be that it keeps on being humiliated
by the greed of easy money,
crucified by the need of unlimited power,
chopped by the rage of unmotivated violence,
wounded by the blades of blunt judgments,
imprisoned by the chains of blind prejudices.
And I wonder how God from above
can’t have pity for these helpless, harmless souls
that only ask to be free to love,
that only ask to be free to be loved,
that only ask to live.