SOLITUDE

There’s nothing like this bliss
of feeling so alone
in mid-afternoon
and in the middle of the wheat field;
under the summer sky
and in the arms of the wind
I am one more ear of wheat.

I have nothing in my soul,
not even a small sorrow,
nor an old remembrance
that would make me dream...
I only have this bliss
of being alone in the afternoon,
just with the afternoon!

A very long silence
is falling on the field,
for already the sun is leaving
and already the wind is leaving;
who would give me forever
this inexpressible bliss
of being, alone and serene,
a miracle of peace!