"THE SILENCE OF THE VINEYARD
the vineyard
rises gently, prow to the sun,
driven by pine trees with Latin sails;
the clouds run around it
as if inside the sea,
changing skin and profile,
it seems to us, forever,
prologue and storm
of the return,
pure, carefree navigation;
for that vineyard, across
the gaze, please do not drink
always enough,
to violate patience until true peace
the silence of the vineyard
before the drunkenness
of song, of red laughter;
when it is still light,
light gemmed with wind;
particle of earth, bride
to the sky and to thoughts;
yours is the vineyard of silence,
yours the peace erect with clods
and, then, at night, with stars,
yours, also, this tuft
of roses that red streak
the path, steps inside
the vineyard and the ruthless
harvest
have
cut off heads
one by one
whole bunches
in heaps
full of wine
subtracting
from the good vineyard
its own
drunkenness."
Created by d'Araprì