Lucania The screeching of crickets is always with me, and the tinkling bell on the neck of a restless goat. I am bound by the wind in weightless silver ribbons. Up there, lost in the clouds’ shadows, lies a Lucanian village, in its tiny fragments. (1940) Lucania M’accompagna lo zirlio dei grilli e il suono … More Rocco Scotellaro: Poems