I REMEMBER THE HILLS
I remember the hills, the shivers,
in Tuscany at sunset, down-river.
Suggest me history
what an arable feel.
Suggest me class struggle rods,
through medieval communes
Landscapes of lords,
I remember the hills
..through the sweet scent of spring
their bodily, material hindrances,
so hard to overcome
for who just earned the crumbs,
for the local carter
forlorn in the market.
What a human disaster
Like now, with materially modified needs,
then only few cared,
Humanity is rare.
I wish I was there on the slope in the scarcity's grip
behind his cart to help pushing.
Of hedges, some swishing.