E per ora c’è un’epigrafe, ed è questa,
Having split up the chaparral
blasting my sight
the wind said
you know I’m the result
of forces beyond my control
I don’t hold it against you
I said
i’ts all right I understand
These pressure bowls and cones
the wind said
are giants in their continental gaits
I know I said I know
they are blind giants
A. R. Ammons, The wide land