Love and l are gentle

As dust motes fly

And sparkle in the air

Of a rare day in Florence.

It is September and already

The cornflowers fade. Grain

Laid up in store on the road to Pisa.

All things are one thing on this day

I heard Dante Alighieri say.

You and I must continue to be gentle.

The old man says the rent is not paid

Rent poses no problem but to be without you

Is not possible. I do not dare to think of it.

All things are one thing on this rare September morn.