I revisited the Coloseum again, in the bright midnight, under a starry sky, the gold plated, merry moon and the eye of the Kolo dancers, from the distant, glaring mIlky way. Well, only me, my walking stick and a stray, looking like a drunk, sea gull, flying slowly by. I entered through the wide, arched, blood stained, time glazed, famous gate. I mingled and blended with a large exhilarated, excited crowd. A horde of bold, low abiding, blood sucking, horse riding, sabre waving barbarians, who were relaxing, fresh, recycled and reincarnated in the solar wind ventilated air, in the exciting expectation of good fun, and excitement ahead. They were watching and enjoying a fat, smart, aristocrat fighting; dueling with a mad, starving, thunder roaring lion. Rhythmically, heartily and musically, they applauded the stronger and better beast. Then, when the lion - slash - opened his guts, and licked a little of the noble blood, when the intestines hung lamely down, and the shit splashed and sprinkled all around, then the gladiator put down his gladius, gladly collapsing - dead. The barbarians. stood, joining their hands together, displaying a heart winning, soul enriching, gently angelic smile as they linked themselves Into a rowdy ritual of Holy Roman, swinging, singing, magic - CIRCOLO. They all gloriously, nobly, loudly and proudly, cheered, barked, shouted and laughed - BRAVO! BRAVO! BRAVO! - to the victorious animal. Signor Vittorio remained sitting
HALLO * ADITUS