The clouds
Selected poems: FABRIZIO DE ANDRÉ, The clouds, 1990.
They go they come, every now and then they stop, and when they stop, they are black like the crow,
it seems that they look at you with an evil eye,
Sometimes they are white, and they run and take the shape of the heron, or sheep, or some other beast, but this is best seen by children, who play to run after him for many meters,
Sometimes they warn you with noise, before arriving, and the earth trembles and the animals are silent, sometimes they warn you with noise,
They come they go they return, and maybe they stay for many days, that you no longer see the sun and the stars, and you don't seem to know anymore the place where you are,
They go they come, for a thousand they are fake, and they stand between us and the sky, to leave us only a desire for rain.
They go they come, every now and then they stop, and when they stop, they are black like the crow,
it seems that they look at you with an evil eye,
Sometimes they are white, and they run and take the shape of the heron, or sheep, or some other beast, but this is best seen by children, who play to run after him for many meters,
Sometimes they warn you with noise, before arriving, and the earth trembles and the animals are silent, sometimes they warn you with noise,
They come they go they return, and maybe they stay for many days, that you no longer see the sun and the stars, and you don't seem to know anymore the place where you are,
They go they come, for a thousand they are fake, and they stand between us and the sky, to leave us only a desire for rain.
Grottammare Borgo The clouds Photo By Baldassarri Giuseppe Copyright All rights reserved © By ✺❂✺ itravelinitaly.com Travel is the traveler in Italy Discover the soul of the places Wanderlust itravelinitaly.com | Travel is the traveler in Italy: Wanderlust
