The ancient church stood like a queen, and on her stony feet
A small piazza and cafes; you put me in a seat,
Brought wine and water,
And praised the well whose earthen cover guards it from the heat.

The fragrance of the vineyard breathed its perfume in our laughter,
Regiments of sunflowers stood guardian to our rapture,
Proudly marching in the sun.
We pledged the meaning of that day would last forever after.

Time and trains have dreamed the day into a memory,
Windy weather in my soul blew down the cypress trees,
Sunflowers staring at the stony ground
Droop and mourn for love that burned in August Tuscany.