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Dear teacher, I don't know why
After a long time I think of you
Maybe because the exams for me
They almost never seem to end
Do you remember mountains Andrea
He was the good one I copied
He writes that he spends tired days
He says he fills out questionnaires
And in the meantime he sells door to door
But no in the streets, he doesn't contest more
And I think of a cinema at the end of that street
An arm around the neck
That chlorophyll flavor of kisses
The last row and I think of Lucia< br/>In the last row and Lucia with dazed eyes
Who knows where she is with her problems
She who has numbers like me
She almost never caught us
She who loved in every sense
Soft snowfalls of poetry
Who knows what remained of those years
Of our great future
So great as to swallow us all up like this ¬
A moment before the last hour
Of the last hour dear professor
I know that you no longer see your son
As do I too
/>All those scattered companions of mine
Like the notes of a lifetime
And to those who don't know how to explain themselves
Tell me what grade you give them now