Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
The Lightning playeth - all the while -
But when He singeth - then -
Ourselves are conscious He exist -
And we approach Him - stern -
With Insulators - and a Glove -
Whose short - sepulchral Bass
Alarms us - tho' His Yellow feet
May pass - and counterpass -

Upon the Ropes - above our Head -
Continual - with the News -
Nor We so much as check our speech -
Nor stop to cross Ourselves.

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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz

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