Dove ricercheremo noi le corone di fiori
Le musiche dei violini e le fiaccole delle sere
Dove saranno gli ori delle pupille
Le tenebre, le voci – quando traverso il pianto
Discenderanno i cavalieri di grigi mantelli
Sui prati senza colore, accennando: e di noi
Dietro quel trotto senza suono per le valli
D’esilio irrevocabili, seguiranno le immagini.
Ma il più distrutto destino è libertà.
Odora eterna la rosa sepolta.
Dove splendeva la nostra fedele letizia
Altri ritroverà le corone di fiori.
Franco Fortini
Questo sito usa i cookie per migliorare la tua esperienza. Chiudendo questo banner o comunque proseguendo la navigazione nel sito acconsenti all'uso dei cookie. Accetto/AcceptCookie Policy
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.Accetto/AcceptCookie Policy
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
