Saturday, June 6, 2009

Vacanze Romane

Where were you, Rome? You were with me
Today you are a prison, I am a prisoner
Rome ancient city
Now old reality
You do not notice me and do not know how you hurt me
The sky rains onto the city
You, with the heart in the mud
The gold and silver, the tearooms
Land without bells
Then, dolce vita that goes away
On the festive banks of the Tevere
A concert of violets and enjoyment
Your perfume of Roman Holidays

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