I gave life to the walls
a voice I gave them
more friendly so that would become my company
and the guards asked
to know where they could find the paint. The walls of the cell
kept the secret
and the mercenaries searched everywhere
but paint they could not find. Because they did not think for one moment
that they should search into my veins.

I Bogia (The Paint). - Poetry - Vi scrivo da un carcere in Grecia (I write you from a prison in Greece) (1974)