The bakery is at the top of the hill which dominates the town.
In the back-shop somebody turns the raw loaves in the flour on the marble table.
I bought focacce and porridges to see your sky-blue eyes.
I congratuled you on a meat roll looking at your sweaty triangular face.
You had a streaked fringe hair over some spots,
Two little tits under your work blouse.
When you got out of the counter, I realized that your blouse was very short
And you showed two complately naked squat legs,
And the top side of your thigs was naked under a further vent of your blouse.
Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-a-bakeress/