SHEPHERDS Gabriele d'Annunzio the beautiful and melancholy poem by Gabriele d'Annunzio SHEPHERDS
September, come on. It 's time to migrate.
Now in the land of my Abruzzi shepherds
Permit the pens and go toward the sea down to the Adriatic
wild green that is how the mountain pastures.
Han drank deeply the sources
Alpine, the taste of water will remain native
'hearts to comfort the exiles, along
that flatter their thirst on the road.
have renovated the rod of hazel. And they go
PEL ancient cattle track to the plan, an herbal
almost silent river, on the ruins of the ancient
fathers.
O voice of him that before
know the trembling of the sea!
lungh'esso Now walking the shoreline
the flock. Without change is air.
the sun so the living brown wool
that almost no difference from the sand.
Isciacquío, pedestrian traffic, sweet noises.
Oh why am I not cò my shepherds?
