My wood was from the grove that gave Victor Emmanuel
His crib. I won't be proud, but it's something. When you
Cannot move unless you're moved--by hand
Or wind or wave, it doesn't signify--you need a reason
To hold up tuo ombrello among all these others.

Every tourist takes a pebble from the tide in front of me
And they never hear me call. I'm like the bed in the hotel--
Waiting to serve. I stay here. Please return.
They say there are green hills rising behind me. I
Cannot say, I cannot see. I have never looked that way.