Arbëresh moment

(Moment arbëresh)

I love the Byzantine bell tower,
Against the azure sky
That pierces straight into our souls
As evening turns to violet
And the girl of my dreams
Chats on the doorstep,
With lowered head.
In my solitary reverie
There appear before me
Scenes of my childhood
And the tragic face of Garantine.
From the distant shades
Comes Constantine's steed a-galloping
On its funereal course.
And an Arbëresh echo
Pierces the air and transfixes my heart,
Rising aloft like a mystery
On its weightless wings,
Seizing the ivy on the wall,
Seizing the silence,
Seizing my blood.