Quest’afa torrida di smog e di stress              

Mi percuote il volto e annega il passo

In pozze d’asfalto e lercio business                

E faticosissimamente vado                            

Attraversando or senza riflesso                      

Questo stran tempo che più non evado         

Quand’ecco che un sogno fresco                   

Il cuor mi scioglie e mosso                            

in novella danza esco                                     

piroettando nel sol d’oro                               

nella densa aria scosso                                   

ebbro ecco m’avventuro                                

E son ghiaccio fuso                                       

E son vento chiaro                                        

E son cuor confuso                                       

In quest’annaspare                                        

Senz’ormai respiro                                         

Ch’è già naufragare                                        

Son la vita                                                     

Son la danza                                                  

Ti son dita                                              

Se sei mani                                                    

Son speranza                                                 

Se rimani                                                       

Se siamo                                                        

Contenti                                                        

E t’amo                                                         

É questa                                                        

D’amanti                                                       

La festa.                                                                    

Firenze, 17/06/2002

Versi tratti da “Sangue blues” di Carlo Menzinger di Preussenthal