A VIEW
THE STAFFORA
Water flows over
a bed of pebbles.
And hopping Purses
e ondeggia.
Le spighe fiorite, violet,
move in the wind tenuous
hills of summer.
Other ears, Yellow,
dominate the edges of
a stream
of which I know the name,
and will know & ograve; name.
And, saprò, that where the eye
rises, and goes far, le case
distant, are, Nazzano.
So, now, that life goes on
with the ups and downs
a stony path.
So, now, that the boulders,
insurmountable,
remain, as that
scrap heap
thrown into the water by
who has no respect
environmental.
So, now, and I would not know,
that sometimes the interest
postpones the friendship,
sometimes, succumbs and disappears.
So ora, and I would not know,
that immorality & agrave; injures ethics
and would annihilate.
But, & Egrave; sweet hot warm
evening, sweet,
as a clear conscience,
in which, at first
evening, you do not find faults
why you should be ashamed.
Do not have thrown you
those scrap,
you have not soiled environments,
you have not taken away anything to
no one. And, when could you give,
& Egrave; for the sake of giving.
Ed & egrave; sweet evening of each
estate. Ed & egrave; civilt & agrave;. Ed è
respect for yourself
and the next.
Ed & egrave; love for all people,
your fellow, to which,
when you meet them you can
watch, with dignity & agrave;, in viso:
hand porgendo.

Angela Battle

____________________________

First publication in the newspaper & quot; province of Pavia" in 2002