The clown

Italian

The spectacle ends,
the crowd applauds,
I am at the center of the stage,
I am the clown.

Smiles and shouts,
sounds and noise,
and I, with open arms,
accept the irony of all.

What a cruel world,
the heart of a clown
isn't made to suffer.
My aim is to entertain.

Falling into my bow,
I observe my exaggerated shoes,
my vision becomes moist
and slowly I stand up...

Families, children, old people...
Voices and lights all around...
Deafening shouts... silent;
crazy mimes, gasping and dumb.

I don’t want to remain here any longer.
I salute, turn on my heels
and with an awkward step
I leave the arena.

The curtain swallows me,
I no longer need to smile.
Abandoning the character,
these shoes now embarrass me.

In front of the mirror in my dressing room,
I can still see my mask.
I remove the gloves and the wig,
the red nose, and all the makeup.

It’s me again...
My tired face,
my eyes.
A new light...

Here we are... I and me,
The two of us do not betray "us".
The recitation is over.
Life begins again.