Come rest with me
on the Ponte delle Tette
(here on the Bridge of Breasts)

where courtesans
attracted clients

by displaying
from overhanging windows

their...ah...assets!
Let it all hang out!

Go for it!

Lord Byron
is still swimming

up the Grande Canal

as if it were still
only 1818

passing palina pole after
candy striped pole.

Sparrows & pigeons
seagulls & swallows

strut & flit
as if oblivious to Time

& the passing of it.

A Santa bored out of
his tiny little mind

glides by in a gondola

playing on his
little accordion

a selection of
Xmas tunes

to a trio of enthralled
Japanese tourists

Bricola poles
lean together like 3 drunken fools

lost in the mist
of times gone by & caigo fog.

Come love!
Let us love & laugh

here on this the Ponte
delle Tette

you breaking off
some good old Bastardo cheese

I devouring
(with obvious relish)

basi de dama
(Mmm....such lovely lady's kisses)

lingue de suocera
(Mmmm...Mother in Law's tongues)

biscuits prepared
to ancient tradition

made in
Heaven.

A bocolo
(a red red rose bud)

clasped to your breast

losing its head
in the process

as my lips
kiss your lips

as your lips
kiss my lips

kiss my lips

kiss...my...lips!

*******

'They have tied the cockerels! ' which in Italian would merely be 'Hano begatto i galti! ' but in Venetian dialect turns into a bit of a tongue twister and so...

I GA IGÁ I GAI!

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-ga-ig-gai-they-have-tied-the-cockerels/