Go for a walk in square Malvezzi
on Sunday
at noon
let the noise of people
become a soap bubble
the slow and stately gait
of swans in the harbour
a wish of peace
for all the people of the world
stop and meditate
on the stone of the fools
recalling the desks back at school
the monologues of the teacher Mr. Tempo
pushing prams
and new generations are ready
for the change
people chat seated at Caffé Italia
drowsy foreign tourists
how much I want a cappuccino
and I gaze at those fragrant brioches
Desenzano on Sunday
ambitions to become a city
but mentality of a town
I would like but I can’t
it sounds like a refrain
from the town hall
my dream continues
my vigilant eyes gaze
at the water of the lake
at the wave breaking.
