Nimble steps,

quiet steps.

I know it is you trying to figure out

the rhythm of your stride.

You should try quieter,

In order not to disturb the broken nature you live in.

You should try louder,

In order to blend in with all the world noise.

When both sides fall

A balanced tangle of weepings

Will make the distance small,

Will worm his way into your skin

Until you will be too close to the place

Where everything is about to begin,

And finally you will know

How it feels to rely on someone.


The music is your world

And your escape from the world:

You can feel it while you play your violin

You can feel it when you sing

You can feel it in your dad`s voice

You can feel it flowing in your veins

And you just hope that feeling remains.

Your mission is to bring it to everyone

To the children, to the teenagers,

To the teachers, to your friends,

To the flowers, to the strangers.

You want them to feel the melody,

To sing it out loud

In order to lock it up

In the whitest cloud.

And you like to believe

If they whistled it

Nothing would never be wrong

And all their melodies together

Would flow into the universe song.


You would like to see

That love every song talks about

The one that starts from a sunset on the sea

Or the one about two people with the same soul

But you know it’s almost impossible

Because you are still untouchable.


I imagine you in your home in Sicily,

Around you just fruit trees,

Beaches and sea.

A sandwich with ham and cheese

In the right hand

A good and relaxing book

In the other hand.

The beauty of your land

Is about the simplest things

-The ones we call little marvels-

But suddenly they have wings

They flow away with the time

However you are not upset:

You know it is not over yet.

You believe we can find them anywhere

Even in our Milan

The greyest city of all times

We just have to change our point of view

And figure out which path we should go through.


Together we are still

looking for something

That could give us chills

But it is hard to find

In a world we can not design:

We will need to climb mountains,

To cross this river in flood

If we really want to hear

the sound of our genuine blood.


Your name is antique

I am sure you know its meaning

Because it comes from Greek:

Agata indicates a virtuous woman

But it doesn’t mean you can’t have any rocking.

Once i’ve been told that while we’re walking

We should look up at the sky:

I want you to know

If you look at it

It will remind you

That we all share the same heart

Therefore never can tear us apart;

It will remind you

Even if we are on the opposite sides of the world

We share the same sky:

For sure It is upside down

But i will come back home

I just need to turn around.



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