Fabio Caparelli Biography

It was not me, who beside the sea,
Stumbled upon the shrapnel,
The bombs that fell, the flesh that bled,
The emptiness that was left instead,
...

Vapid, dry and isolated,
That's how we leave them.
Cold, frozen even,
Do you understand why we leave them there?
...

Death will not appease it,
Yet still we taunt and tease it.
Human eyes cannot see it,
Yet still we dress to be it.
...

Sa la piata mondujo sperra van casi vastick,
Bujo fandarda belisca fa la dinga mastick.
Potto gorlitto vantio bantio spodock mon gargoo,
Pesti molesti faka faka hoohoo.
...

Print these words and wave them in the air,
Write them down and shake them, I don't care...
Poetry in motion is what it will be
And a strange devotion is what will be seen.
...