Giovanni Pascoli,
Paulo Ucello — Chapter 5
(1915)
“ Most like the snail that daubs the wall and goes Bearing its worthless all upon its back. I want no farm such as Donato owes At Cafaggiolo, but a strip of ground, Where crab-apple, or pear, or fig-tree grows. For even a head of garlic, I’ll be bound, Is joy to him who toiled to make it grow. ”
