It's true, that uncultivated field smacks of disorder it's not looked after, it smacks of waste it's not exploited, it smacks of neglect there's no control but I like it
it smacks of freedom.
25.9.'13
The original poem ("Il campo incolto") is in Italian. There is no good translation for a poem. I apologize for mine. Corrections are welcome. As far as the sound of the poem is concerned, please, read the original poem.