They are the lonely
who live in the shade
of ancient cloisters.
Sedately, with humble eyes,
they carry in their slender hands
the white bands of charity.
Life, from which they fled,
mercilessly pursues them
and voluptuous evenings of May
the wind drags
to their little cells
the pallor of the moon.
I Manoscritti / Original Typescripts · 1 foglio
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