I remember that afternoon in Roma,
We shared a perfect moment in the city of antiquity.
In the darkened room, our touch was gentle.
Our kisses feverish in their desire.
Yet outside those shutters the piazza had people and purpose
But our hearts were rushing more, in the embrace that wandered.
The bells chimed at Santa Maria, but behind those iron gratings heavenly choirs sang.
And in those eyes, I found myself closer to heaven than at Saint Peters.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem