Lucky Village's Oversight

When night falls, new funny faces are jumping out.

Many little eyes, like faint tongues of flame,

are getting closer

and in the magic of the night,

voices are whispering new words.

By now, their language seems to be lost in time,

but I still have a hazy memory of their own voice's sound.

Once I shyly tried to catch their faces

through the moon's melancholy beams;

those little creatures whom

have lost everything throughout time.

Last night they showed me a way I never noticed before.

It's a path hidden among the trees

parallel to the way I'm passing through every morn.

It looks nobody knows such a road.

Hence, as soon as they set off,

I realized that I would have finally

made myself acquainted with their secrets buried inside time.

The more I was getting far from the things I already knew

the more I was feeling my senses' warmth reborn,

and contamination clearly died down,

making room for a nearer and firmer pureness.

A disarming scenery

had been appearing now in front of my eyes,

filling my heart with tears and nostalgia.

That moment I started guessing

that even human beings might have born there,

but nobody either knows or remember what I'm talking about.

Anyway, since that night I know

looking for the land of God it makes no sense, by now

and down there, in this unreal town,

echoes of homesickness come back.

So, now, loneliness covers every face with crying,

but these lost heroes are lying down on their memories...

sometime are chained like only wonderful dreams can be.