Dream fluently, still brothers, who when young
Took with your mother's milk the mother tongue,
In which pure matrix, joining world and mind,
You strove to leave some line of verse behind
Like still fresh tracks across a field of snow,
Not reckoning that all could melt and go.
as a poet born and living in Tuscany.. I can say to be among the Etruscan Poets.. :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a beautiful poem, but the text here has a glitch. The fifth line should read: Like a fresh track across a field of snow, Please see Wilbur's New and Collected Poems (1988) , p.55, or his Collected Poems 1943-2004 (2004) , p.130.