A sunset on the hill

A sunset on the hill
by Gianfranco Aurilio
I ran after the sun
along the river,
where the flowers are reflected in the morning
wetting the petals
in water
colored with light,
unfolding the stems
to the wind,
like sails on the sea.
I ran after him among blades of grass
that touch the sky,
between voices and perfumes
of green meadows
in spring.
Under the branches of lime trees
over hidden dens
beside prickly brambles
inside you were hidden
beyond the pond
behind the bridge
near frightened foxes
away from curious hawks
I ran after the sun
without stopping
to see it disappear
slowly
before me
on the hill.