Naples, with the silence of your screams tourist imaginative and sedentary I was in a fairy-tale film Mastroianni: The sol jumped from clouds in jest and a young man in the square, par vicar, immediately clouds ready to do damage. Changed when the joy of misery He gave way to ambition, to power, Your smile frugal ignorance. Today a flame of serious bitterness, sad thought of his city, burns on the face friend on vacation. This day is only the gulls to save that land, leaving their sea.
Umberto F. M. Cefalà
20/02/11
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