The kite (G. Pascoli)
... Now we are stuck: we face Urbino
windy sends each one jumps
his comet through the sky blue.
And here waving, reeling, hits, rush,
back, takes the wind here is slowly
between a long scream of children s'inalza.
S'inalza, and steal the wire by hand,
like a flower on the stem escape
thin, and go away to flourish again ...