The Cricket Invites the Cicada to the San Remo Festival
My dear cicada,
my good friend and workmate,
whether you want to or not, you have to go
this February next down to San Remo.
If I myself went to Liguria
I would get a cold for sure;
that place is full of flowers,
and I would get the malady
they now call allergy;
but why not go yourself?
Your voice is warm, melodious
better than Lucio Dalla’s.
Pavarotti is a bleater
compared to you, and your song is sweeter!
If you go to the San Remo festival
you’re sure to vanquish one and all:
a little luck is what it’ll take,
and then a hundred million is at stake:
with an L.P. you no longer
need to fear the pangs of hunger.
Take my advice, my good friend,
and I beg you, condescend: