Mai vi fu età dell'oro per l'omo empio

Mai vi fu inganno più grande dell'aurea speme

Che in miti muti trovò nessuna episteme.

Ebbene ora a voi mostrerò caro esempio:

Gli Imperi antichi, i regni tutti in flutti

perirono

Di lunghe guerre i campi e mari si riempirono

Fino a che di povertade e miseria le genti restarono in lutti.

Se il passato di nera pece era dipinto

Oggi di bigia tinta è il presente

Con sprazzi nivei di speme carente

Che del passato tristo non vedo distinto.

Corvino è il passo dell'unta macchia sulla tela,

Mentre il bianco ad essa anela,

Ma in asciutta forma s'estingue

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English translation

Disclaimer: this is a very rough and literal translation of this poem I wrote four years ago and some things may make no sense from a strict grammar sense but I wanted to play with the language and stretch it to sublime my emotions of something I always considered pure bullshit: the golden age. This is a poem heavily inspired by Contemporary History class I attended four years ago at University. Sorry if it's not that bright and optimistic. If you can understand the original language you will appreciate it more. Thanks for reading and have a nice day.

Never was the golden age for the merciless man

Never was a greater deception than the golden hope

That in dumb myths found no episteme

So I'll show you a fine example:

Ancient Empires, kingdoms whole in waves

perished

With wars, fields and seas were filled

Until with poverty and misery people rest in graves

If the past was pitch black-tinted

Today grey-hued is the present

With snowy spurts of lacking hope

That I see no distinction from the wretched past

Jet-black is the oily stain step on the canvas,

While the white yearns for it,

But in dry form it dies out.