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Having been born in legendary Italy,a country
as old as the stones of the Via Appia,
made me recall the fiery image of Attila...
the barbarian from Hungary,
who dared to defeat the mighty Romans: 
by sacking their imperial city with clanking swords! 

Attila might have become the new emperor,
if he hadn't abandoned that land he came to conquer,
but golloped away...vanishing into the unknown:
remorseful or giving up on becoming great;
and some agree that he was as untaimed as a lion...
with a chilvalry to melt any woman's heart!         

Many great battles were fought on this soil,
fortified by faith,valor and blood:
an Italy immortalized by Vergil,
Dante,Davinci,Michelangelo and Verdi: a legacy continuing today;
and I, as her native son, like to lead the way...
to be among these and not vanish into nothing!

Where I walked as a teen, castles rose towards
crimson skies to capture my fancy and hold me in wonder,
until dusk came with the tinkling bells; and sweet mother
called me...her voice echoing,with affectionate loveliness,
amid the pine trees and a garden of blooming roses;
there, at the gate's entrance, she waited with flowers!

From a tiny spring, flowing from the snow-capped mountains,
I drank the purest water and saved some in my canteen...
while my companions threw rocks at each other and told jokes;
and none of us were older than seventeen!
O golden days,return to vivid memory...
when we are taken by reminiscence to renew vows of loyalty!

By a bright lamp,I'll write these memoirs 'till morning,
and whenever sleep comes...I'm ready to hop in bed,dreaming
to be in Amalfi or Positano along the rugged coast of emerald...
listening to the murmurs of the gleaming sea,so old,
overlooked by the immobile stars and hear a happy mandolin play
a serenade and to be taken into eternity! 
 
I'm finally there, retracing each footstep on a stony path, 
running through the streets of my fled youth;
wouldn't I be happy to stay and find a place to rest?

Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
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