"Wood and salt. | And clear water of broken mirrors. | Ilium burns behind our backs, no one turns to look. | Hot tears and pregnant hearts for everyone. | Let's go. | There's nothing else to do. | Freshly planed fir and new pitch under the soles of the feet, sails ringed with hope and the sun high. | The smoke remains of the house of the past: it fills the throat and nostrils, it will accompany us forever. | Barefoot exiles, broken souls, old people, women and children. | Let's go. | Defeated, deceived, cold backs under the eyes of bored gods. | Let's go. | My son's curls, the wrinkles of his bent father, the wide open mouths of those who call me "prince". | While the kingdom I never ruled still burns. | My name is Æneas and this is the last day of Ilium. | To cast off is to die twice. | The future smells of wind and fear. | Let's leave. (Simone Sarasso)"

"No, princess, friend, | it is not indignation, it is not fear that moves | the Phrygian sails and transports me elsewhere. | I know that Dido loves me; | unfortunately I know; nor was I afraid of her. | I love it, and I remember it | how much she did for me: I am not ungrateful. | But let me expose again | to the will of the waves my days | she prescribes my destiny, the gods want it; | and I am so unfortunate, | that fate seems to be my fault.""

"If I stay on the beach, | if I untie the sails, | treacherous, cruel | I hear myself called: | and meanwhile confused | in the fatal doubt, | I'm not leaving, I'm not staying, | but I try the martyr | what I would have when leaving, what I would have when staying"."

"Torment the cruelest | of every cruel torment | it's the barbaric moment | which divides a cor in two."