It's a completely different thing from love between people.
The young Daccio is a miracle and a gift of destruction given to the old professor by God. He is destined to give everything for him, just like a thorn bird spends its whole life looking for a thorn and inserts a sharp thorn into its own chest, but the song of the bird makes the world listen quietly, God smiles in the sky, the bird I have never regretted it.
Passed by him countless times, dodging his eyes, but admiring his beauty happily and painfully in an unnoticed corner.
All this made the professor feel guilty and bewildered, and his profound knowledge paled in the face of emotion. He evaded his inner thoughts, packed his bags and left Venice. A small accident blocked his return journey, and he actually boarded the ship heading for Venice again with secret joy. With a faint smile.
I'm going back, Daccio, back to you.
The plague was spreading in Venice. The old professor dragged his weak body, wore a brand-new white suit, and followed behind Daccio with the makeup applied by the beautician, but he still did not dare to face the beautiful face of the young man. The night was dark, wrapping him, who was lying on the square with tears on his face, and the white moonlight reflected his tragic smile. He said again and again: "I love you, I love you."
It was just that only the starry sky that night could hear this secret.
Perhaps all he could do was summon all the courage to come to Dacchio's mother, tell her about the epidemic that was being concealed by the authorities, and beg her to take Dacchio out of Venice. That day he was finally able to stroke the boy's blond hair with trembling hands, the first and last time he was so close to him.
In the end he died as a teenager.
The moment before he closed his eyes, what caught his eye was the boy's arms bent in the setting sun, as if saying goodbye to him. The old man stretched out his arm with the last strength, trying in vain to seize the moment, but the hand finally slipped.
I dare not approach you, just as I dare not touch something too beautiful, as if you will disappear in the next second, a dream as light as a cloud, silently shattering in front of my eyes.
My love may be desperate, but I don't regret meeting you, because finally, I can die for true beauty.
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