Under the silver sea of sirens, on the edge of the world

Right before the Zora colours the sky

Right before the moment in which waves will free from the snares of still waters

You could see the ships rusty with memories and with gunpowder of words without projectile

Inside, the whole theatres, actors obsessed with masks

On every plank is a drop of falsehood and happiness, agog twittering

Spectators have forgotten if this is comedy or tragedy

And I personally don’t care, because much more than showgirls behind the crimson curtains

I rather watch auditorium, because there is the only thing which my eyes and soul agree on

It is so beautiful and delicious, like the instant, when the ship lands on the shore

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