Novembre

Sceneries far from the Sun
Far from the dust
Glide into dusk
Cobalt of Match
I see your eyes above the arch of your smile
Lost in this nighttime through the daze of its dark
I see your eyes lost in the queitness of March
In the striations of the cobalt of March
I see (that) this numb mourning dies
I see (that) this orchid was born to be taken away
I see your eyes above the arch of the sky
I see your eyes throughout the gaze of the night
I see your eyes closed, in the coldness of March
Lost in the glaciers of the cobalt of March
I see (that) this numb mourning dies