The Big Saturday Poem by Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello

'Oh my dear daddy...'
Lauretta (soprano)from 'Gianni Schicchi', one act by G. Puccini

The girl was sitting on the seashore
Her naked titties looked upwards, incredibly tanned.
Next day August holiday came. The sky was dark,
The sea was stormy and somebody sat on a bench,
His eyes were half-closed for the wind and read 'Bleak House'.
And the third day came. The waves were raised by the mistral,
Very very little surfboards appeared. You were on the crest of the wave,
Closed your eyes and were in Santa Monica.
Remembering the John Milius's movie, that time was wednesday,
You shouldn't escape the military service,
You shouldn't leave your surfboard to a younger swimmer,
You shouldn't give your wounded leg to the Lesbia's cares.
Saturday was a big day the same.
A young preacher from Nigeria ate 'trenette al pesto' at the restaurant.
On the way you crossed steps of Bossa Nova with a garota de Ipanema;
You stood half-open-mouthed, she stopped for a moment,
Then she continued to walk erect, moving her little round bottom.
Her titties were covered by the brassière, however there were again.