I write words every day.
I don’t know where I’ll go
I know I could stay silent.
Those who know, don’t speak.
Mute in the womb of time
where people even cry.
will be enough to understand and say
what the voice cannot.
I touch every instant, every day
the cry and the thunder. I live around.
I could stop and wait.
[Original Italian by Margherita Guidacci, ‘In silenzio’.]