Ode to Summer - Oda al Verano
Ode to summer Summer, red violin, clear cloud, the hum of a summer or cicadas announce your arrival. The heavens arch to a smoothness, lucent as an eye, and below your gaze, summer, you are an infinite sky-fish, shameless messenger of praise, lazy, sleepy-eyed one, little bee belly, mischievous sun, terrible paternal sun, sweaty as a toiling ox, and the scorchiing sun in one's head is like a sudden blow, sun of thirst crossing the sand, summer, desert sea. The sulfur miner drips yellow sweat, the aviator maps, ray by ray, the celestial sun, darkened sweat slips down a forehead into the eyes; at Lota, the miner scrubs ...