– XXI –

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Addio Hammada,
dove il sol folgorando,
tritura le rocce, arse
da millenaria sete di rugiada,
e dove il vento
in furia scava e svuota
come frugando illusorie radici
d’una vita remota
da portare a nudo

Goodbye Hammada,
where the sun by shining,
grinds the rocks, burned
by a millenary thirst for dew,
and where the wind
in fury digs and empties
like rummaging illusory roots
of a remote life
to bring to light