The city pulses with life, A machine of steel and noise, But nature calls me back, Among the whispers of the leaves, Where the world slows down, And murmurs take the form of light.

I walk the beaten path, Ground beneath my feet, Each step a conversation With the earth, with the sky. The rustle of grass, The flutter of wings, Every sound a part of me.

The wildflowers bloom brightly, Defying the grasp of modernity, An act of defiance, A statement of truth, Here lies beauty, Untouched and free, Amidst the bricks and the concrete.

Let me sink into this serenity, Carve my spirit in the bark of trees, Revitalize my essence, Amongst the weeds and the whispers, For as the sun sets, I become one with the twilight’s grace.

• Ettore Cozzani