Uccellacci e uccellini (The Hawks and the Sparrows, 1966) constitutes a unique object in the filmography of Pier Paolo Pasolini. This film is a kind of modern fable, a voyage on foot heading through the surroundings of Rome and returning to the times when animals talked and humans talked to animals. This is also a fine example of the cinema of poetry that Pasolini himself made reference to in an already mythical text on cinema, language and communication, where he highlights how cinema is fundamentally a language of poetry in which there prevails the expressive and oneiric violence of images meaning, in a kind of raw state, because the irrational element of cinema cannot be eliminated. Pasolini recalls in this text that “there is no dictionary of images”, that there are no classified and ready to use images, thus cinema is always the place of linguistic invention. If we communicate by words and not by images, to say that there is a “specific language of images” would be a “mere artificial abstraction”. Indeed, there is no dictionary of images but we are used to reading reality, conversing with it through images, whether with our feet firmly on the ground or with our heads in the clouds, in the complex exercising of memory or in the world of dreams. Pasolini goes still further in stating that, different to more instrumental forms of communication, “visual communication, which is the basis of cinematographic language is on the contrary extremely crude, almost animalesque.” In its way, Uccellacci e uccellini, with its talking crow and the guiding figure of Antonio de Curtis “Totò”, with the sermon to the birds or the encounter with the wandering troupe, is a fable built out of allegories, of pictures within pictures, images within the film, and of the map of a path that turns into the path itself to become an expression of this world of memory and dreams that Pasolini identified as the cinema of poetry.