Suffocate

"Over there, where they died the damned hell decadent and crazy infinite in the asylum, where the limbs you avvoltolavano in linen as in a shroud Semitic […] over there, in the asylum it was easy to move touch the paradise […] there you saw God … My poor verses are not beautiful, vaunted words, are not aphrodisiacs crazy ammannire by the powerful and to those wishing to cajole his thirst. My poor verses are pieces of flesh Black defeat closed and strike you impetuous … and the mission of the poet." Alda Merini