Giovanni Pascoli

(31 December 1855 - 6 April 1912 / San Mauro di Romagna)

La Quercia Caduta


Dov’era l’ombra, or sé la quercia spande
morta, né più coi turbini tenzona.
La gente dice: Or vedo: era pur grande!

Pèndono qua e là dalla corona
i nidietti della primavera.
Dice la gente: Or vedo: era pur buona!

Ognuno loda, ognuno taglia. A sera
ognuno col suo grave fascio va.
Nell’aria, un pianto… d’una capinera

che cerca il nido che non troverà.

Submitted: Saturday, December 31, 2011
Edited: Sunday, April 15, 2012

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