The yellow roses are a matter of life
And death is only understood
if we have confidence in living
Forever. She started on her round-the-world
Dream of success
In the streets of Rome.
"Would you like to be photographed for Vogue?"
Simplicity and grace return
To be subsequently near us.
"I remember as a child hearing some bombs
Explode near my family's house by the sea
But they would always miss us, somehow."
What do you do with that
Young girl who means so much to you, sometimes
What Benedetta means to me
When she puts her head on my shoulder
With the absolution of being already present?
Or when someone places his hand in your own?
I think I am with her, I think of her name:
Benedetta. Do you see the difference between the sky
Above the lake reflecting the sky?
Do you see the landscape stained with sunlight?
The young boy is there with the rose
At the edge of the lake
Waiting for you, forever.
We have invaded each other's lives with
The one thing that can save us,
Since we were fourteen years old.