The sonnet of the Cup's valley (in agro di Chieuti)

I'm here today the one using this language
To say how much I love my Southern village
And to be free to be playing with courage
In front of broken things and blind minds

The "minor eagle" flew across the hill
He stands by me and looks at my eyes
He is declaring full sense of life
His soul is blowing throughout the winds

A winding channel links two holy lands
He never sees the other side of the Cup
Nor does he look at the two eastern towers

Maybe the stones and bricks they were built up
Were sought among the trees and western flowers
Among the ruins of the undefeated town