There is the dust
of the dawn bus
on the unmade road
across the pass
In every village
girls who are woman
and boys with moustaches
wait to ride to school
The bus of knowledge is leaving
leaving the old behind
soon the dust will settle
on the unmade road
The village which told stories
during the night of centuries
above the bay of the tuna
has fallen silent
astounded
by the news of the refinery
and its refrain
flaming continually
against the hills
even on the days of funerals
On her bicycle she rides
beside a dead canal
reciting the lines by Carducci
she learnt last week at school
on this canal when I was young
barges crossed so close
it was like a kiss …
Beside the battlements
where the living defenders
joined the dead
still fighting
to defend their walls
lovers today
fondle and embrace
as the Sava takes
the arm of the Danube
to go together
into the bliss of some black sea
here the city was built
here children will be born
1979