Dynamism pervades
my veins,
beats my muscles,
strains my heart.
My feet by now
belong only to the air
and I happy slide
in a pretty dream.
Short moments
more intense
than whichever
other feeling
to the world.
What is more fine
than overcoming
the condition
that despotic nature
gave us?
I have written this my poetry in Italian language, therefore its translation in English language could have minor "Vis Poetica".
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