Samedi Pluvieux
“La sottise, l’erreur, le péché, la lésine,
Occupent nos esprits et travaillent nos corps,
Et nous alimentons nos aimables remords,
Comme les mendiants nourrissent leur vermine”.
Boundaries
“Like as the waves make towards the pebbl’d shore, so do our minutes, hasten to their end”.
Night Walk
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds”.
The First Day of Summer
“Tornerà un altro inverno
Cadranno mille pètali di rose
La neve coprirà tutte le cose
E forse un’altra estate tornerà”.
Bruno Martino