the snow falls on Gennargentu
beat the wind on the streets of Orgosolo
does not encounter any the street, all
protect themselves in the lower house.
but do not want to confess all,
has the grim expression of the Devil
and a revolver hidden in his jacket.
sounds as powerful as thunder rend the air
ice ... "Look firecrackers," he thinks someone
"Maybe they are hunters ... "
Lies motionless body of a man lying on his back on the road
Cowgirl,
lies the velvety berritta side,
his gaze is turned towards the sky.
moaning women who wear the veil,
and someone puts a flower next to it, the crowd thronged
desperate
as barbarism has returned to Orgosolo.
the silent scream murals in the country;
talk about the struggle for bread,
of stubborn people who fought
who wanted to occupy that land.
The body of a man lying on the road, is
Peppino, a poet, a trade unionist and content ,
wind is off another light
to a land shrouded in darkness already.
From Gennargentu
set the cold wind that falls on the frozen corpse,
nobody talks about, only silence, someone
quick bar the front door.
This is another story of Sardinia,
yet another story of Barbagia
the perpetrators disappear into the darkness
to kill was a ghost.
Vincent D'Ascanio, 2008.
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