Then the delegated heroisms bursted forward
and two guys – in our place – clung up there,
and our thoughts assembled around
to incite the champion, the one and only good man…
who inside an ultimate destruction
for a celestial lady was working hard;
or we sighed to the vicissitudes of that dog
so tormented and clever…
In a dark point – that was Italy
we oversaw the blackest time,
our whole pulse was conveyed there
and in the words of others we sank, other worries,
until from strain some splinters come up, of splendour.
I don't know what sociology
says about all this,
small groups and their whirling souls, but in the end
slowly got up the audience
like meditating radiators.
Tiziano Rossi