Io Son L'umile Ancella

Here, I barely breathe

I am the humble handmaid
Of the creative genius
He offers me the language
I spread it to the hearts
Of verse I am the accent
The echo of the human drama
The fragile instrument
Vassal of the hand
Mild, joyful, cruel
I am called Fidelity
A breath is my voice
That will die at the new