Same sun
ends, soon begun.
That morning,
1957, Silvio
went without words
at the news—
Elvis Prezzli
non è italiano.
But somehow,
no problemo.
Both sang at sunset,
a turned up radio
somewhere
in Milano.
Published by The Path, A Literary Magazine, Summer,2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem