You lose the look of rippling waves,
hopes faded, and some memory
;
and night falls and the rises anger, on the dry sand
someone desperate.
A woman's face, so the rice
quand'all'improvviso
got up the skirt.
A dog that runs, with the wet blanket
pursues only the time passing by.
If what I feel
smile off his face looks a good
the wind blowing.
