In front of the school many people
twenty past eight, the first ring
"turn off that cigarette"
and thousands legs and glasses
quickly on the stairs.
Half past eight all stand up
the president, the cross and the teacher
that have been reading always the same story
On the same book, in the same way,
with the same words since forty years of honest work.
But questions have never had
a clear answer.
And the "Divine Comedy", always more comedy
and now I don't know
if Dante was a free man, an unsuccessful man or a servant of the party.
But Paolo and Francesca, I remember them well
because, tell me, who have never been in love
Of the girl of the first desk,
The nicest, the silliest,
you are stupid, and she laughed always
While your love had the same words,
the same breaths of the book that you red secretly
under the desk.
Midday, all disappear,
"Let's go to the bar".
Where Nietsche and Marx shaked their hands
and talked together about the last party
and about the new dress, made apposite
and always about that girl that flirted with all (but you)
and the assemblies, the cineforums, the debacts
never granted in that time.
and coward escapes in front of the door
And beatings in the garden and in the school,
first cry of a '68
too long to come and too short to be forgotten
And your commitment that grew up always more quickly in you....
"School mate, mate of nothing
have you saved yourself from the smoke of barricades?
School mate, companion for nothing
have you saved yourself or have you entered in the bank too?"