Da giorni ormai lontani
persi nel tempo in questa terra grigia
non c'è che spazio per nere paludi
è mutato il grano in aride canne ingiallite.

Le piante, rare ormai,
portano in sé il peso dell' angoscia
non c'è che spazio per fili di lava
son cambiati i riflessi argentati in viscide squame.

Vecchie città in oblio
senza giardini, avvolte in intensa nebbia
come tra i fili di un baco da seta
e la vita non può uscire, dal buio.

SF tekstas, parašytas Piterio Hamilio, muzika grupės Le Orme

Sorona
Endless faces which wear the shadow of sadness as their masks;
nameless voices which rise in concert to welcome in the dark;
Huddled shoulders against the presence of Sorrow in the streets,
passing among the crowd and touching the sould of all he meets ...
and deep in their eyes you find
an anguish that clamours for release ...
if only to be blind.
Every evening they join together around their village squares,
hoping that the Messiah will come and banish their despair ...
they`re looking for a miracle;
there`s nothing left to look for, if you dare!
maybe now He comes!
Fingers tingling and bodies ringing in harmony with words
whose melodies and phrases are now forgotten,
though once heard ...
suddenly there`s a smile or two;
suddenly the tide begins to turn ...