How Does The Mwr10d6 Record

Più puro dove più turpe è la via

Coincidence. I came across two poems written by hand a century ago, the same year, two poets far removed from their culture and geography. "Easter in New York" by Blaise Cendrars and the City Old "by Umberto Saba.

They share the descent into the belly of the city

Saba:

take a dark street of the old city .

Cendrars:

get down with great strides towards the poorest neighborhoods ,

Here they meet the poor:

Saba:

people who are going

inn the house or brothel,

where goods are men and the debris

a large seaport

Cendrars:

the crowd of poor

is here, packed like cattle, hospices.
Huge black ships arriving from the horizons
And I landed on piles, on the marshes.

There are Italians, Greeks, Spaniards,
Russians, Bulgarians, Mongols, Persians.
circus animals are jumping the meridians.
He throws them a piece of black meat, as the dogs.

Be one with this world of evil Poverty and both have an appreciation of the presence of the God who already had done before them next to last of the earth

Saba:

are all creatures of life

and pain;

stirs in them, like me, the Lord.

Cendrars:

Lord, are good in the neighborhood of thieves,
vagrants, beggars, of fences.
I think of the two thieves who were with you to the gallows,
I know you smile worthy of their misery.

What touched me most is the final of Sheba, who is pure in its ugliness, every drop of dish made with love:

Here I feel humble in the company of

my thoughts be

purest where most shameful is the way.