TWILIGHT BALLAD Renzo Novatore

Twilight Ballad


A Symphonic Prelude of “Dynamite”

(date of composition unknown)



This is the hour of my bleak thoughts.

My Demon sleeps.

The red Demon

of my hellish mirth

sleeps in the gloomy twilight

of this mind of mine.

I smoke…

Desperately, intensely,

I smoke. Always!

Always! Always! Always!

I would like to think, to write, to sing…

But my Demon sleeps

The red Demon

of my hellish mirth

sleeps in the gloomy twilight

of this mind of mine.

And no thoughts come…

Nor even laughter and curses!

This is the dark hour

of my black melancholy.

*

Distracted, I watch my cigarette,

slender, pale and hot

like an ailing lover.

I watch it consume itself so very slowly

like my life and my dreams

like the lives and dreams of all my brothers.

The ash falls to the ground and is dispersed. So!

The smoke floats off, dense and gray, into the air

and is dispersed as well. So.

There is nothing left for me

but a bit of yellow nicotine on my bitter lip. So.

*


My Demon sleeps.

The red Demon

of my hellish mirth

sleeps in the gloomy twilight

of this mind of mine.

I look at the sun!

I see it setting among the blond whirlpools

of a golden sea.

Golden and bloody…

But my heart is bitten.

Bitten by a cold sob

without hope or tears,

without hatred or love.

Oh, if only I could weep…

if only I could curse…

But no!

No! No! No!

*


Who?

Who has ever cause me so much harm?

Who is the malign architect of this suffering of mine?

Alas, mother… my mother…

If I still had the strength

so that at least I could curse you…

But no!

No! No! No!

And yet you—you alone!—

are the one that gave me life,

that gave me sorrow,

that brought me Harm!

But tell me:

Didn’t you believe in the joy of living?

Am I, therefore, the child of a grotesque dream?

Or am I rather the lowliest child

of common unawareness?

But then, why, oh mother,

—on that day—

didn’t you have the heroic inspiration

to bash you full belly

upon a hard rock? So!

Since I didn’t want to see

the sun

Since I didn’t want

this miserable life.

Since I suffer so much, so…

Oh, mother, are you crying?

And why?

Are feeling regret

for having created me?

Are you imaging the harm

that torments and shatters me

so terribly?

Oh, if only I had the strength

so that I could curse you…

But no!

No! No! No!

I am too cowardly!

*


The river flows and sings…

(the beautiful, peaceful, laughing river).

It flows over its fine bed

of soft sand

and its white froth

is tufted with gold.

The titanic cliff

bathes its granite flanks

in your clear waters

—oh, solitary river—

and seated at your edge I

watch the green leaves

that the wind caresses,

embroidered with shadow and light. So!

I watch. I think and remember…

But my mind is gloomy,

and all around me,

the evening weeps. Black.

I no longer love.

I no longer believe!

*


Who?

Who has ever caused me so much harm?

Women and love?

Men and friendship?

Society and its laws?

Humanity and its faith?

Maybe all of them!

Maybe none of them!

I don’t know…

I feel much too bad…

Too much! Too much! Too much!

Here… in my mind!

*


My Demon sleeps

He sleeps in the gloomy twilight

of this mind of mine.

How sad I am…

Sad and melancholy.

*


I want new friends.

Real new friends.

I need to confide

my black melancholy

(in someone).

But I have no friends

I am alone!

Alone with my MELANCHOLY

Alone with my Destiny.

Alone, so alone!

*

My Demon sleeps.

A Memory passes

through my brain.

The Memory of a dream.

I dream of youth:

“Strong, happy men

embraced, intertwined

with the naked bodies

of beautiful, joyful, happy women

celebrated and glorified

by happy, innocent children.

Then:

Flowers and sun.

Music and dance.

Stars and poetry.

Songs and love.”

*


My Demon sleeps.

Dull yellow, black

and greenish flashes

of foul reality

pass through my brain!

Flashes of the reality that is passing…

“A mixture of brutes and boors.

A mixture of hypocrisy and ignorance.

A blending of cowardice and lies.

A totality of dung and mud:

Oh, no!

No! No! No!

I suffer too much!

Too much! Too much! Too much!

*

The sun has set

(the beautiful, golden sun)

The Angels of the evening

are in their death throes…

The green leaves are cold,

laughing dead skulls…

The river (the beautiful, clear river)

is now a black serpent

fearfully stretched out

between the cliff boulders.

Gloomy, silent grave.

Gloomy, black grave.

*


My cigarette is used up…

(my cigarette as pale

and hot as an ailing lover).

The ash has dispersed

along with the smoke.

There is nothing left for me

but a bit of yellow nicotine

on my bitter lips:

like life and dreams. So!

*

I go into the gloomy twilight

of my mind

my red Demon awakens.

I feel a tiny trickle of bitter blood

flowing over my bitter lips…

I have a tragic premonition

What will happen tonight?

But… the stars

—the dear stars—

will see.

If only I could laugh

and curse once more…

But I see a sinister lamp (a fire?)

shining in the darkness of the night.

I will have to STRIKE!

I feel it…

I feel it! I feel it! I feel it!

I am a star that is turning

toward a tragic sunset.