Boot banter grows
Telling these are innocents
Abroad - Flash of flesh,
And free movement;
Then the long vista taken,
Through the windows,
Fresh Segantini colours,
But, how long -
Fit for march,
Tread the cobblestones,
Drain clear water;
Soon humped figures
Like a train,
Will snake,
Towards defiant, misty,
White caps.
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I would like to translate this poem