Oh, this book

has become a duty

for us!

We need to read it

every day.


Pass and pass the

pages in a rush,

the characters


and action get complicated,


like the bends of

a river among mountains

in its way,

very easy,

to the sea.


Ah, how to find

the sharp motion

of water,

the precious instant

of stream?!

A garden balcony

leaned out to an undulating

precipice of poplars

that sink, triumphant, their tops

towards the sun that

shines at the beneath!


How to let out

the night with

its gleaming meadow

of dew and glowworms

because in this


of the space

it gets off the topic?


Day after day

absorbed in the unimportant


of this protagonist that narrates

in the first person!




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