Water climbs steps, stone softens,
People are aquatic and lyrical,
Time is steeped in glass,
Shapes of dreams and light
Wash away and are restored.
Beside her nursling waves
Every hour adds an hour.

On vaporetti, being vanishes.
We are as the mist
And out of mist we appear,
The palaces seem imagined,
The Grand Canal bends time
And the domes of San Marco
Complete the witchcraft of the waves.

From the conservatory
Cellos navigate canals,
Pianos touch keys of water,
From open windows voices glide
As though on seraphic wings.
In a piazza, a ball rebounding,
Echoes its flight
Above the children playing.

Otherwise the city is silent.
Lapping waves, church bells
Melting over the waters,
Boats absorbed by space
And the currents in their wake,
And the deeper you go
Into the lanes of the city,
Andare per le fodere,
The quieter the city seems
Until by a mirror-like canal
Silence flowers from its fabric.

In the floating city
Sleep is pledged to dream.
The elements combine
Like elixirs of well-being,
Elixirs of love.