sweet clouds in red skies
tell me what became
of those alternative paths
the untold stories
that my choices left behind
If only I had the slightest wisdom
I would have pursued the great Way at once,
never regretting, never going astray.
But I dreamed too much, what a tumultuous child!
instead of enjoying and staying calm.
Being nothing more than a simple human,
my life turned a maze of turns and twists,
like a mountain path, like a very old tree.
Only late, very late, did I came to rest,
after too much unnecessary toil
with a basket full of mature fruit.
How much I learned? how much I changed?
How much a better person at last I became!
Although enriched by this progress
I often cannot help but feel,
a deep nostalgia, a sense of loss,
for what in blindness I left behind,
for the many doors I closed,
and although I can now understand,
I can’t simply erase and forget
the echoes of those thousand paths,
the many lives I did not fully live.
Long ago, in far away lands,
I grew up admiring the stars,
dreaming of distant mountains
and smelling the fresh grass.
In the crisp winter sky,
Centaurus shone proud and high,
and in lazy warm summer days
benteveos sang to the Sun.
One day I left for the north,
who knows looking for what,
now the childhood world already lost,
my old birds and stars will not come back.
I sit prisoner of space time,
with these memories warming my heart,
under a new gentle Sun
in these new here and now.