88

IMG_5927

Come il lupo è il vento
Che cala dai monti al piano.
Corica nei campi il grano
Ovunque passa è sgomento.
Fischia nei mattini chiari
Illuminando case e orizzonti
Sconvolge l’acqua nelle fonti
Caccia gli uomini ai ripari.
Poi, stanco s’addormenta
prende le cose, come dopo l’amore.

Vento, Attilio Bertolucci

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This entry was published on March 29, 2015 at 5:45 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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