Who Sings Im A True Believer

Daniela


decide the order. Let us
words, the hand that writes the rough
naive, cunning Congress Party.
Silence.
You said you wanted to know, you were lost
smiles, too bright,
I was telling you about.
I still had to tell you, tell you, maybe you too, we would
encountered, yet, perhaps, one day
outside these walls Party and poetry,
I would have offered a coffee, beer, I
the usual tea,
friendship stronger, I liked your
intelligent questions and true .

I do not know whether it is sadness that goes into these verses

human or other thing that remains for you and we do not go

- as always
talks to himself who speaks to the dead-alive you did not like this adaptation

why we met in these rooms, you work exhausted, fatigue
large, poorly paid, the uncertain future,
and going from city to city
return until the evening, you return to your

find rooms empty of smiles and caresses, words.
guess Sundays emptied
I know. More, perhaps even stronger
you confused that I learned in a phone in a July
that you undid, everything.
But you have not saved

and you did not lost because there is no salvation nor damnation

only the strange feel of humans. We

contiunuiamo
to live here, you pass
the time that remains, as always, via Castelforte, Joseph is saying
of Chiapas where it went in and out, you know its coming and going,
of sloths, poetry, you know Joseph is
and Umberto, Michelangelo, Pasquale, Franco, Eligio, Fabio, others,
we are still short, we exist,
resist, we hesitate.

But I will not say who live in the memory forever in us, you're never dead. Six dead
instead
and
and we do not live a day. There precedesti only.
It was not cowardice, courage, false words of human stupefied, and was another huge

strength of body that governs animal
classes, peoples, Chiapas, Tzeltal,
and commanders, and Subcomandante me, you, the sloth and poetry.
you were not you, not you You decided it was false to the end-to-onset
other force pulls
to do to say to think. And
sì, è tristezza che spinge in questi versi
che ti piacevano
e come sempre dicono di un'assenza.
Dammi però l'inizio
tu che decidesti la fine
per quando anche io non sarò stato. Adesso
voglio pensarti indocile
fibra dell'universo
come me vanamente ribelle
chè la rebeldia non è che disadattamento per altro adattamento, non si sa se migliore
e per quanto.
E' l'ora del saluto.
Non posso dirti addio, arrivederci,
non posso dirti niente.
Non sei mai stata.

(Ugo Lanzalone)