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Italia - una parola strana



Italia
Una parola strana.
Se la ripeto - è più strana ancora
E beffarda quasi tuona.
Italia
Una parola che strana - tutta risuona.
Eppure italiano
Io sono.
Lontano
Io vivo
Da quella terra snaturata.
Italia
Una parola strana
In fondo alla vita
Di frequente però pronunciata,
Di quasi estinta razza
Di un popolo morente
E poco fiero della storia
In essa mi vedo
E conosco invero
L'opaca gloria.
E capisco che è
ultima mia essenza,
ché morirò in sua presenza.
Sapendo chi ero
Al freddo e gelo
Di qua
Darò il calore
Del sole e della luce
A questa terra che mi accoglie
Di quel popolo che mi toglie
Il morir già
Prima che muoia
Per infinita noia.
Nell'ultima parola
Mi sottrarrò - però
E il suon di lei amerò
Nell' eterno silenzio
Verso la gioia.
Italia,
Una parola strana
Mi accompagna
E le ciglia da ultimo
Bagna.
Tristi tante e amare ore
Di te compagno ho passato
Ma infine ho capito
Il bello sí, che sempre
Ad amare
Per te ho imparato
E tu, sola, insegnato.


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