And the heart, when by its last beating
it will have torn down the wall of shadow
to lead me, Mother, up to the Lord,
as it once was, you will give me your hand.
On your knees, firmly,
you will be a statue in front of the Eternal,
as He already saw you
when you were still alive.
You will rise, trembling, your old arms,
as when you expired
saying: My God, here I am.
And only when He will have forgiven me
you will feel the desire to look at me.
You will remember you have been waiting for me so long,
and you will have a rapid sigh in your eyes.
Giuseppe Ungaretti
