Woman, you cry, ..why..?
No one has even chained you yet,
to the wall.
Look at all of the tears dried there,
yellowish white powders,
drifting down alleyways.
Time how much time, would you wast?
Come! ..
Climb up onto the wall of your shame
..now..!
Here take my hand, you will come to
know it, Italy.
Grand were the arenas, where I found you,
the wall upon which you lived and bled.
Those chains you made,
before even Caligula found you so infatuating.
Come..climb up..
they are your hands and feet.
You would come again.to know the beat of your heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem