girasole lento dalla cima china,
nel torpone del tramonto l'aria assume un vago aspetto.
Sere d'ovest ove il sole irradia le sue calde note
di un silenzioso soluto,
al di la della sfera diurna la frattura dei due mondi.
Ciclo cosmico d'immensita perduta
dove lo specchio siderale riffete la tua anima
ospite della grande festa della vita.
(Dedicated by Paolo Manali)
Galante idea
ОтговорИзтриванеPolly, I could not help noticing that you are quite the polyglot, whereas I meself have difficulty expressing anything remotely approaching complex thought in my own bloody bleeding native tongue, whatever that might be. So here's the deal. I have decided to build a loyal if gullible audience on the basis of simple stories written to include the worst, most disgusting obscenities from the most obscure languages imaginable. My only problem is that I lack imagination. Tell you what: why don't you throw together a list of the vilest, most loathsome filth you know from as many languages as you've mastered and ship the whole lot off to me at http://beninski.blogspot.com/ I promise to keep the whole awful enterprise mum. Your pal, V.I. Beninski, Mothafucka™®©
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