Finding Solace
What is more peaceful than The wind caressing your face Messing your hair, fluttering your dress, The wind that uproots sturdy trees And rips the roofs upon your heads, The wind that shreds your posters And brings the distant dirt and smell? What is more peaceful than A toddler’s merry laughter, That can melt the cruelest of hearts? His babble is more charming than the Prince, His eyes hold sheer innocence. Who would acquaint him with a world Of hypocrisy and injustice, greed and lust? What is more peaceful than The haven in a mother’s lap? When she strokes your hair in the darkness, Aren’t all your sins forgotten? Oh! Where do you go to find solace? Is it in the city of Venice or the islands of Sicily Or simply in your father’s arms?