tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-301218222024-03-14T09:45:29.116+01:00NeverwhereUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-85774119773754404682011-12-09T23:16:00.012+01:002011-12-21T10:03:41.854+01:00Questions<div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >D</span></b>oes <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>den <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >A</span></b>wake <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >T</span></b>ameless <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >H</span></b>ell</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >D</span></b>oes <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>quinox <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >S</span></b>ee <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >I</span></b>ts <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >R</span></b>estless <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>ye</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >D</span></b>oes <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>uphoria <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >L</span></b>ay <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >I</span></b>n <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >R</span></b>ooms <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >I</span></b> <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >U</span></b>sed <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >M</span></b>ore</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >D</span></b>oes <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>verybody <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >S</span></b>leep <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >T</span></b>hrough <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >R</span></b>uins <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >U</span></b>nder <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >C</span></b>eilings <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >T</span></b>hat<span class="Apple-style-span" > <b>I</b>l</span>lusion <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >O</span></b>wns <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >N</span></b>evermore</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >D</span></b>oes <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>ach <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >S</span></b>ong<span class="Apple-style-span" > <b>P</b></span>urely <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>ye-<b><span class="Apple-style-span" >R</span></b>ipping <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >A</span></b>way <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >T</span></b>urn <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >I</span></b>nto <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >O</span></b>ld <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >N</span></b>onsense</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >D</span></b>oes <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>vermore <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >S</span></b>eem <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >T</span></b>o <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >I</span></b>nweave <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >N</span></b>o <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >Y</span></b>esterday</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >D</span></b>oes<span class="Apple-style-span" > <b>R</b></span>eality <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >E</span></b>ar <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >A</span></b>bsent-minded <b><span class="Apple-style-span" >M</span></b>elancholia</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span><div></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">on air: </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TDAVu28gYI">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TDAVu28gYI</a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-74607133434697235092011-05-30T22:40:00.005+02:002011-12-10T23:42:05.718+01:00<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span">I am like a big strong cable</span></span></div><span style="font-style:italic;"><div style="text-align: center; ">I am like a girl soft inside</div><div style="text-align: center; ">Finally today I'm able</div><div style="text-align: center; ">To put you in the ground</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">words: Jimmy Gnecco</div></span><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-5061553839386910722009-07-27T09:37:00.007+02:002009-07-28T00:33:27.776+02:00...<div></div><br /><div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Sm4rC9GzqrI/AAAAAAAAAJA/jkffGRL3oY8/s1600-h/stunning.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Sm4rC9GzqrI/AAAAAAAAAJA/jkffGRL3oY8/s400/stunning.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363271536007686834" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Delirium</span>:<br />"Qual è il nome della parola </span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">per quel preciso momento<br />in cui capisci </span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">che in uno scatto c'è quell'emozione </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">che respirava nell'immagine viva e nella musica,</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">ma che non pensavi avresti mai potuto fermare</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">e ti senti come se sia stata la tua anima</span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br />a scattare la fotografia senza avvisarti?</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Dream</span>:<br />"Non c'è."</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Delirium</span>:<br />"Oh, pensavo che c'era."</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /></div><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-39912123101721278282009-05-28T21:22:00.010+02:002009-06-05T13:44:38.763+02:0029. 05. 1997<div></div><br /><div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Sh7l1Dp8LhI/AAAAAAAAAHs/vl7SjYyk_SE/s1600-h/Jeff%2BBuckley%2Bxx.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Sh7l1Dp8LhI/AAAAAAAAAHs/vl7SjYyk_SE/s320/Jeff%2BBuckley%2Bxx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340958907785031186" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;">your music<br />blowing in my soul<br />breathing on my skin<br />flowing in my blood<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">never gone</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">thank you</span></span><br /></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=guBskTZQrHM">Jeff Buckley - We All Fall In Love Sometimes</a></span><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-67682823613869107142009-04-18T23:06:00.006+02:002009-04-21T13:09:30.449+02:00...<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Delirium Desire(s) a Delight(ful) Dream.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">The blind eyes of Destiny remind her</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">of what she forgets, over and aver again.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">No Delight untouched by Destruction.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">No Desire without a taste of Death.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Delirium keeps on Dream(ing) Delight.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Dream keeps on (un)Delight(ing) Delirium.</span><br /><br /></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Se2pCXDFZoI/AAAAAAAAAHk/x3Uf0MOfNj4/s1600-h/CenaFantasigattaHair.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Se2pCXDFZoI/AAAAAAAAAHk/x3Uf0MOfNj4/s320/CenaFantasigattaHair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327099792260949634" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-78306974698470047382009-03-01T22:23:00.007+01:002009-03-01T22:34:21.733+01:00Will I always be here?<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >In your room</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Where time stands still</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Or moves at your will</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Will you let the morning come soon</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Or will you leave me lying here</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > In your favourite darkness</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite half-light</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >,<br />Your favourite consciousness</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite slave</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > In your room</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Where souls disappear</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Only you exist here</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Will you lead me to your armchair</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Or leave me lying here</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite innocence</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite prize</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite smile</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite slave</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > I'm hanging on your words</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />Living on your breath</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Feeling with your skin</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Will I always be here</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > In your room</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your burning eyes</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Cause flames to arise</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Will you let the fire die down soon</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Or will I always be here</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite passion</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite game</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite mirror</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Your favourite slave</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > I'm hanging on your words</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Living on your breath</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Feeling with your skin</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" > Will I always be here</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Sar88UwiZ_I/AAAAAAAAAHc/ybdou2M2c-8/s1600-h/heel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 316px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Sar88UwiZ_I/AAAAAAAAAHc/ybdou2M2c-8/s320/heel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308333224104191986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:lucida grande;" >words & music: <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Depeche Mode</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:lucida grande;" >image:</span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"> Lady Door</span><br /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-4461469040179501722008-09-17T22:50:00.007+02:002009-03-01T22:38:37.826+01:00...<div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SNFt4d4murI/AAAAAAAAAE8/RXOF1En9i64/s1600-h/Blind.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SNFt4d4murI/AAAAAAAAAE8/RXOF1En9i64/s320/Blind.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247095857725487794" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:ARIAL;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">The Garden of Destiny. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">You would know it if you saw it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">After all, you will wander it until you die. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Or beyond. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >For the paths are long, </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">and even in death<br />there is not ending to them.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Words: <span style="font-style: italic;">Neil Gaiman</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Image: <span style="font-family:aquiline;">Lady Door</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-3769632124073566312008-09-08T15:44:00.007+02:002008-09-08T15:58:32.018+02:00Will...<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >Un mondiale nomadismo è cominciato nel buio:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >sono gli alberi che vagano sulla terra notturna.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >Sono i grappoli che fermentano in vino dorato,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >sono le stelle che di casa in casa peregrinano,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >sono i fiumi che il cammino cominciano a ritroso!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >E io ho voglia di venire da te sul petto - a dormire.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SMUsi49e87I/AAAAAAAAAE0/M7GdTLMFJHY/s1600-h/sleepy_hands.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SMUsi49e87I/AAAAAAAAAE0/M7GdTLMFJHY/s320/sleepy_hands.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243646319060251570" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >Words: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Marina Ivanovna Cvetaeva</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" >Image:</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"> Lady Door</span><br /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-6544687256344469952008-08-25T17:50:00.008+02:002008-08-25T18:57:49.773+02:00Thoughts...<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SLLU7q68ltI/AAAAAAAAAEs/WvSc_KdDQP0/s1600-h/black.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SLLU7q68ltI/AAAAAAAAAEs/WvSc_KdDQP0/s320/black.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238483438184208082" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />... per acquietare la mente,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >la cosa importante non è</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >resistere ai pensieri che insorgono,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >ma prenderne coscienza,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >accettare che ci sono.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >è più facile che se ne vadano così</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >piuttosto che cercando di cacciarli...<br /><br />(T. Terzani)<br /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-47641698950407832372008-08-24T21:06:00.012+02:002008-08-25T18:58:26.524+02:00...<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SLGxdJtWD7I/AAAAAAAAAEk/M9BKw8as18U/s1600-h/care.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SLGxdJtWD7I/AAAAAAAAAEk/M9BKw8as18U/s320/care.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238162955989028786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >Pensieri a decantare.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >Non rispondo.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >Nel tempo silenzioso</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >che scandisce questo momento</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >il bene che ti voglio</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >fa del mio autocontrollo</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">la tua sola inconsapevole difesa.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Non hai capito.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Non capiresti ora.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Il tuo sguardo nel mio...<br />... capirai?</span><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />On air: </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >Tori Amos</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" > - Bells For Her</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Image: </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:aquiline;font-size:100%;" >Lady Door</span><br /></span></div><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-28310231036760925832008-08-20T16:25:00.007+02:002008-08-20T16:40:29.288+02:00Who cares...<div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SKwplwsWMCI/AAAAAAAAAEc/i3hyqBTnjQc/s1600-h/Dawn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SKwplwsWMCI/AAAAAAAAAEc/i3hyqBTnjQc/s320/Dawn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236606195427848226" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >... So burn it down</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > Discover the dusk of your day </span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > Has reached its dawn</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > So burn it down</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > Remember to find a new way to carry on</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > So burn it down</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > Discover the dusk of your day </span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > Has reached its dawn</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" > So burn it down</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> Remember to find a new way to carry on...</span><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">On air: </span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">Alter Bridge</span> - Burn it Down</span><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;font-family:lucida grande;" >Image: </span><span style="font-family:aquiline;font-size:100%;" >Lady Door</span><br /></span></span></div></div><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:aquiline;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-71014007435450331212008-06-19T15:54:00.012+02:002008-06-19T19:31:06.182+02:00<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Dipingo scene inesistenti</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">su ragnatele di tele ingiallite dal cieco tempo.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Non mi limito a tracciarne i contorni.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Sfumo gli acquerelli</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">come se i colori sgorgassero dalle mie stesse dita,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">immerse nell'acqua della mia anima</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">dove immobili galleggiano frutti scuri.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Suonava la canzone della carne</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">e hai sussurrato alla mia mente:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">"Uccidile. Uccidile tutte, Delizia."</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Pensavo mi spingessi alla misericordia,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">ma svendevo inconsapevole la mia grazia.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Il primo tratto a carboncino</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">dell'unico frammento di razionalità rimasta</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">riconosce le piccole gocce di oscurità</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">che danzano sulla marea che tace.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Perle nere di lacrime antiche, abbandonate.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Cristalli insolubili di senno perduto.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Intingo le dita-pennello nell'anima liquida</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">mentre l'ombra di velluto mi osserva, viva.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">E accade solo lì, nella serena follia dei colori, </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">nell'istante che si ferma e dilata.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-style: italic;">Delirio ricorda di essere stata un tempo Delizia.</span><br /><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SFpnF_swnkI/AAAAAAAAAEU/pTkML0KKOew/s1600-h/BlueJoy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SFpnF_swnkI/AAAAAAAAAEU/pTkML0KKOew/s320/BlueJoy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213592871330946626" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-1340010649090173212008-06-09T17:42:00.009+02:002008-06-09T19:55:18.522+02:00Knot...<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SE1PiLGkAFI/AAAAAAAAAEM/D34WMMvuq-0/s1600-h/knot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SE1PiLGkAFI/AAAAAAAAAEM/D34WMMvuq-0/s320/knot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209907792451993682" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >"Aveva la sensazione di tracimare, </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >di produrre e accumulare sempre più amore dentro di sè.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" >Ma senza mai scioglimento."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">E quei frammenti di sogni taglienti lei li guardava.<br />Calma. Nella distanza. Concentrando ogni respiro.<br />Non li voleva indagare nè voleva avere risposte.<br />Imprigionava in scatole di latta tutti i punti interrogativi<br />che cadevano come gocce di nera melassa dal soffitto di lillà.<br />Lo sapeva che nessuno li avrebbe rimossi.<br />Lo sapeva che sarebbero restati là a fissarla.<br />Avanzava da esperta funambola sul tenue filo della paura.<br />Una paura che controllava quando si assopiva.</span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br />Paura di scoprire che quello che ricordava<br />non era sogno, ma figlio del reale.</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Che il nodo che sentiva al centro del petto da sempre</span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> si era formato allora.<br />La conferma che lei aveva vissuto tutti quegli anni<br />cercando</span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> solo di proteggere dagli oscuri ricordi<br />quella bimba dai riccioli d'oro.<br /><br /><div></div><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Quote: <span style="font-style: italic;">Jonathan Safran Foer</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Image: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Lady Door</span></span><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-5641954229853465432008-05-30T18:34:00.014+02:002008-06-09T17:41:21.490+02:00Can't you see...?<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Una bambina<br />cui basta </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >dannatamente poco</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(forse troppo poco)</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />per avere il cuore denso d'emozione.<br /></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Vorrei essere nei tuoi occhi</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >per vedermi come non mi vedo,</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >per scorgere la me che descrivi<br />e che spesso pare nascosta al mio sguardo.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SEBPglzXRdI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pCXaVA6kiHk/s1600-h/BlackCoffee+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SEBPglzXRdI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pCXaVA6kiHk/s320/BlackCoffee+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206248590562248146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >Grazie...</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ></span><br /><br /></div><br /><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">On air: </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >Martha</span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> - Tom Waits</span><br /><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;" >Images: Lady Door & Stratifigatta (resta l'autrice, ma l'immagine è stata cancellata)</span><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-87130165833785601462008-03-05T15:41:00.017+01:002008-10-02T10:41:49.669+02:00Federico Erra<div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/R862e3rsv-I/AAAAAAAAADc/2R91qXMdgdA/s1600-h/24.02.08+010.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/R862e3rsv-I/AAAAAAAAADc/2R91qXMdgdA/s320/24.02.08+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174273663354847202" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;" >Era la sera del diciannove giugno quando,<br />dischiusa una delle tante porte che compaiono all’improvviso<br />quale regalo della nebbia<br />che sembra giocare con noi diradandosi<br />per poi avvolgerci nuovamente tra le sua braccia,<br />mi ritrovai a camminare nel mondo messo a fuoco dalle sue immagini.<br />Un <span style="font-style: italic;">Saint-Just</span> che alla mia mente richiamava insieme l’immagine storica del rivoluzionario francese, <span style="font-style: italic;">l’Archange de la mort</span>,<br />e ancora di più quella così sfaccettata, viva e struggente della Rei Asaka<br />tratteggiata con grande arte e passione dall’Ikeda dell’adorato Versailles No Bara.<br />Una figura fuori dal tempo e dallo spazio<br />e allo stesso tempo così consapevole di entrambi<br />da saperne dipanare anche le trame più sottili e in ombra,<br />capace di osservare il mondo con acuto e sensibile sguardo<br />come solo certi angeli perduti<br />che si riflettono in stanze buie tappezzate di specchi sanno fare.<br />Come solo chi ha intrapreso il sentiero per purificare le proprie </span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">doors of perception</span><br />in un matrimonio tra Inferno e Paradiso osa fare.<br />Lo dissi a lui e lo scrivo anche qui<br />di come l’anima e la poesia, che vi si avvertono pulsanti,<br />fanno delle sue fotografie semplice musica per gli occhi.<br />Di quanto siano intrise dell’essenza della malinconia vitale,<br />di come sia facile ritrovarvi le linee tratteggiate da Keats a descrivere<br />“</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">chi con strenua lingua sa schiacciare contro il palato il grappolo di gioia</span>”.<br />La natura dona ad alcuni un animo particolarmente incline<br />al saper scorgere e gustare la bellezza che si disvela nell'effimero della vita<br />ed in tutto ciò che è emozione e da esso discende.<br />Ai suoi prediletti, insieme a questo, concede un dono ancora più raro:<br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">poter trasformare in pura bellezza l'emozione delle proprie visioni</span>.<br />Federico Erra crea questa magica alchimia con le sue fotografie.<br /><br />Un <span style="font-style: italic;">Orfeo</span> che ha mutato la sua lira in una macchina fotografica.<br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Grazie</span>.</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SOSJFPqIMZI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8liKFNlFmwc/s1600-h/federicoerra.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/SOSJFPqIMZI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8liKFNlFmwc/s320/federicoerra.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252473788616421778" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Per avventurasi nell'arte e nel lavoro di Federico:</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" >http://www.flickr.com/photos/federico_erra/</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" >http://federicoerra.carbonmade.com/</span><br /><br /></span><br /><div></div><div style="text-align: left;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Ending photo: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Federico Erra</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;" >Opening image: <span style="font-family:aquiline;">Lady Door</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span><span><br /><div></div></span></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-30762953160405130922008-02-11T09:57:00.000+01:002008-02-11T10:33:24.123+01:00Dedicated...<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;">Arrampicandomi su specchi dall'opaco riflesso,<br />intrecciando capelli di filo di grano<br />con rami secchi e foglie fragranti di gelo invernale,<br />sospesa su pozze dalla nera profondità obliqua,<br />immergo dita sottili nel liquido scorrere<br />del vischioso calore del crepuscolo inebriante.<br />Colleziono monotoni e pavidi rifiuti,<br />impossibili situazioni dai contorni sfocati,<br />persone sbagliate, incapaci di varcare la soglia fluttuante.<br />Aperto e fermo, poso il palmo bambino<br />sul petto pulsante della terra che riposa<br />e, mentre la familiare carezza del vento mi accoglie,<br />è sul bordo di una scogliera che il piede si ritrova.<br />Neist Point, feeling like at home.<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/R7AVQoN0FdI/AAAAAAAAADU/csnSaKd3dOY/s1600-h/Neist+Point.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/R7AVQoN0FdI/AAAAAAAAADU/csnSaKd3dOY/s320/Neist+Point.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165652148011406802" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-22438735096085290122008-02-07T23:32:00.000+01:002008-02-11T10:34:49.553+01:00Waiting for words to come...<div></div><br /><div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/R7ANZ4N0FcI/AAAAAAAAADM/RcznZvvoyBg/s1600-h/waiting.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/R7ANZ4N0FcI/AAAAAAAAADM/RcznZvvoyBg/s320/waiting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165643510832174530" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/R6uM8Zo96NI/AAAAAAAAADE/3lHWMpufZ90/s1600-h/waiting.gif"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-74797809492239472522007-11-17T20:26:00.000+01:002007-11-17T21:15:24.373+01:00Birthday...<div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Rz9G1kSQ5EI/AAAAAAAAAC0/7Cm3t-KhYi4/s1600-h/Jeffbnzlnd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Rz9G1kSQ5EI/AAAAAAAAAC0/7Cm3t-KhYi4/s320/Jeffbnzlnd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133899986312946754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span>For your being always here.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >In the amazed soul, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >in the pounding heart</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" > and the dreaming eyes, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >in the breathing blood</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" > and the endless memory.</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thank you.<br />Thank you, my Muse.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-39404685633095105802007-10-23T13:09:00.001+02:002008-06-10T08:36:28.573+02:00That little Jane Eyre in me...<div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Rx3XTwutH1I/AAAAAAAAACU/NxjsUyrdZRg/s1600-h/lecon1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Rx3XTwutH1I/AAAAAAAAACU/NxjsUyrdZRg/s400/lecon1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124488685515775826" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Rx3YFgutH2I/AAAAAAAAACc/azZ_BPf3syY/s1600-h/jane6.gif.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/Rx3YFgutH2I/AAAAAAAAACc/azZ_BPf3syY/s400/jane6.gif.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124489540214267746" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);">"Jane, you're a strange and almost unearthly thing."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"Sometimes I have the strangest feeling about you. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Especially when you are near me as you are now.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">It feels as though I had a string tied here under my left rib where my heart is, </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">tightly knotted to you in a similar fashion. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">And when you go to..., with all that distance between us, </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">I am afraid that this cord will be snapped, and I shall bleed inwardly."<br /></span></span><br /><div style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;">on air: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Charlotte Gainsbourg</span> - Morning Song</span><br /></div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-75588650233507355122007-10-18T11:01:00.001+02:002007-10-19T11:32:57.405+02:00Like in a dreamed embrace...<div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RxchPwutHzI/AAAAAAAAACE/nsW_29SZXv4/s1600-h/abara+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RxchPwutHzI/AAAAAAAAACE/nsW_29SZXv4/s400/abara+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122599655819779890" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">... risvegliarsi nel luogo in cui gli abbracci<br />non voluti e non concessi vanno a spegnersi.<br />Vederli sgretolarsi e cadere mentre il resiro si spezza.<br />Mentre si perdono nelle sabbie del tempo che non ritorna.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" >(Se solo potessi invocare la pioggia affinchè sciogliesse completamente e lavasse via il dolore che tu senti, lo farei.</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><br />Ti sei dato a me e mi hai mostrato cosa può essere la verità, per questo grazie.</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><br />Questa era la mia vita e non aveva avuto mai molto senso per me...</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><br />Chiudo i miei occhi e osservo la mia vita scorrere via, l''unica cosa che vedo sei tu.</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><br />Per tutte le volte che mi hai tenuto in bilico sul baratro e sei stato al mio fianco, grazie.</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:lucida grande;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Qui si trova la mia vita e non mi è mai sembrata così reale.)</span><br /></span><br /><br /><br /></span></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Words:</span> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:aquiline;">Lady Door</span></span> <span style="font-size:85%;">&</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Tim Jensen </span><span style="font-size:78%;">(nella traduzione di Lady Door)</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Image:</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Tsutomu Nihei</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:courier new;" > </span><br /></span><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-31498166866287545132007-10-15T08:43:00.000+02:002007-10-24T17:58:55.005+02:00You know you can set fire to the capacity to say...<div></div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RxRhVQutHyI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ePSXMdRsPvc/s1600-h/optimist.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RxRhVQutHyI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ePSXMdRsPvc/s400/optimist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121825694123106082" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" >"</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" >Si può anche dare alle fiamme - lo sai - la capacità di dire</span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;" >".</span><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;" > Ed è esattamente come fuoco intenso che brucia le parole<br />nell'istante stesso in cui si formano,<br />tracce di china, sulle pagine bianche della mente folle.<br />Vorresti afferarle tutte, salvarne almeno qualcuna dalle fiamme,<br />ma, mezze bruciacchiate, ora così imperfette e fragili,<br />riuscirebbero a descrivere la perfezione aggrovigliata alla vischiosa realtà del momento?<br />Fissi allora le punte delle dite sottili, annerite.<br />Affascinata dal nero che si sposa con il violaceo bagliore delle unghie,<br />guardi i contorni arsi di alcune delle parole che ti sono rimaste,<br />e i buchi che sembrano quasi distrattamente decorare le altre.<br />Li afferri con delicatezza<br />- stesso leggero tocco con cui raccoglievi le rosse memorie dell'autunno -<br />e sulla tela di nebbia che ha salutato il risveglio nella tua terra<br />cerchi di comporre un quadro bislacco,<br />sovrapponendo e incollando quei resti con fili di rugiada.<br />Pare quasi che assorbano le gocce stesse di umidità, nutrendosi,<br />diventando fiume di memoria che ti scorre sotto gli occhi.<br />Ed è così che ciò che la fiamma ha consumato, la nebbia riporta in vita.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;" >E, mentre quella giornata ti scivola nuovamente dentro</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;" > come liquido ambrato,<br />immagini <a href="http://www.mckean-art.co.uk/"><span style="font-style: italic;">quella mano</span></a></span><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">,</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;" > quei movimenti così sciolti a tracciare, che disegna per te<br />ciò che tu non sai dipingere... <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://darkfables.splinder.com/">grazie inmate</a>.</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RxMoUwutHxI/AAAAAAAAAB0/oGorEzcHqA0/s1600-h/13-14.10.2007+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RxMoUwutHxI/AAAAAAAAAB0/oGorEzcHqA0/s400/13-14.10.2007+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121481538393677586" border="0" /></a></span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >"Words mean whatever you want them to mean."</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">words:</span> Lady Door <span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:85%;">& </span><span style="font-style: italic;">Neil Gaiman</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">images</span>: <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Dave McKean</span> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">&</span></span> Lady Door<br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-3189270963332814902007-09-22T21:39:00.000+02:002007-09-24T16:11:16.245+02:00The same blue story...<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" >... and in spite of all that it always blows me away...<br />Feeling there's no place... hearing nobody's voice.<br />A crumbling hope of a foolish me...</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Kusamura ni na mo shirezu <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Within the grass)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Saite iru hana naraba <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(A flower is blossoming with its name unknown)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Tada kaze o uke nagara <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(If it just faces and rustles in the wind)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Soyoide ireba ii keredo <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(That's good but)</span><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Watashi wa BARA no sadame ni umareta <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(I was born with<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">the destiny of rose</span></span></span><span>)</span></span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Hanayaka ni hageshiku ikiro to umareta <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(I'm supposed to lead a splendid and passionate life)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >BARA wa BARA wa <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(The rose, the rose)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Kedakaku saite <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Blooms dignifiedly)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >BARA wa BARA wa <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(The rose, the rose)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Utsukushiku chiru <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Falls beautifully)<br /><br /></span></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Dono hoshi ga meguru toki <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(When a certain star is circling around)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Chitte yuku <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(The one that is dying)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Watashi darou <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Should be me)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Heibon na <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(I'm not granted with)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Jinsei wa Kanaerarenai <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(An ordinary life)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >mi dakeredo <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(But)</span><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Watashi wa BARA no inochi o sazukari <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Endowed with the life of rose)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Jounetsu o moyashite iki teku itsudemo <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(I always live and burn with passion)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >BARA wa BARA wa <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(The rose, the rose)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Kedakaku saite <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Blooms dignifiedly)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >BARA wa BARA wa<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(The rose, the rose)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Utsukushiku chiru <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Falls beautifully)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" ><br /><span style="font-family:courier;">Watashi wa BARA no inochi o sazukari <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Endowed with the life of rose)</span></span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Jounetsu o moyashite iki teku itsudemo <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(I always live and burn with passion)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >BARA wa BARA wa <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(The rose, the rose)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Kedakaku saite <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Blooms dignifiedly)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >BARA wa BARA wa <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(The rose, the rose)</span><br /></span><span style=";font-family:courier;font-size:78%;" >Utsukushiku chiru <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />(Falls beautifully)</span></span><span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RvZNfUfiVTI/AAAAAAAAABc/GQgDFstBmIA/s1600-h/DSCN3644.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RvZNfUfiVTI/AAAAAAAAABc/GQgDFstBmIA/s320/DSCN3644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113359627398042930" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Words:</span></span> Lady Door <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">&<span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Yamagami Michio</span></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Image:</span></span> </span></span>Lady Door<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"> <span style="font-family:lucida grande;">'s <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">sister</span></span></span><br /><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-45889949268706239062007-09-17T10:51:00.000+02:002007-10-24T17:53:36.371+02:00Sonnet to Orpheus...<div></div><br /><div style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 51); text-align: center;font-family:georgia;"><pre style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Though the world keeps changing its form<br />as fast as a cloud, still<br />what is accomplished falls home<br />to the Primeval.<br /><br />Over the change and the passing,<br />larger and freer,<br />soars your eternal song,<br />god with the lyre.<br /><br />Never has grief been possesed,<br />never has love been learned,<br />and what removes us in death<br /><br />is not revealed.<br />Only the song through the land<br />hallows and heals.</span></pre><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><br /><object style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-family: lucida grande;" height="470" width="280"><embed src="http://www.sonybmgmusic.co.uk/mediaplayer/object/JHF86XWXCGBDVCM3/COI1HBU3DXUQBFAF/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="470" width="280"></embed></object></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >words: <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">R. M. Rilke</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />music: <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Jeff Buckley</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-87554659060490463952007-09-10T22:44:00.001+02:002007-09-10T23:07:23.628+02:00Speechless...<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RuWs-tGujbI/AAAAAAAAABM/Eq68d8nzceI/s1600-h/Dreamcatcher.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RuWs-tGujbI/AAAAAAAAABM/Eq68d8nzceI/s400/Dreamcatcher.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108679545581374898" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >... for the vanished touch</span><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >of a vanished hand</span><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:180%;">and a sound of a voice that is still.</span><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">image:</span> <span>Lady Door</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">words: </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >anonymous on a tombstone (Luss, Scotland)</span></span><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30121822.post-41321811776226925482007-08-25T18:42:00.002+02:002008-02-25T12:44:08.624+01:00Melancholy...<div></div><br /><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >Quando si guida nella notte capita di perdersi un po' nei pensieri </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >mentre si ascolta distrattamente la radio che sussurra nel silenzio, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >ma l'altra sera nel mio vagare, senza apparente meta, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >sono stata riacciuffata da una voce </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >che affermava qualcosa di insolito e disturbante: </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >" <em>... la malinconia contraddistingue i pessimisti </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" ><em>ed, d'altra parte, è senza dubbio la gioia a caratterizzare gli ottimisti...</em> ".<br />Devo dire che è stata la totale assurdità del'affermazione a catturarmi, sì.<br />Non so di chi fosse quella voce, ma ho la certezza che appartenesse </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >a chi difficilmente deve aver sperimentato la profondità della gioia, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >a chi non sa che </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >"<em><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">siamo bilance che oscillano tra dolore e gioia, </span></em></span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">solo quando siamo vuoti siamo in equilibrio</span></em>"</span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >a colui che - senza darsene troppa pena - non sa distinguere, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >con sottile percezione, </span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >l'essenziale differenza che delimita il confine </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >tra l'oscuro regno della tristezza </span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >e quello talvolta visionario </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >e perennemente stimolante e vivo della malinconia.<br />Mi è tornato subito alla mente il momento in cui, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >girando intorno alla Royal Scottish Accademy in un pomeriggio di sole, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >siamo sbucate davanti alla National Gallery of Scotland e,</span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >con incredula meraviglia, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >i miei occhi sono caduti sul manifesto che accoglieva i visitatori. </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >Gioia infinita posare lo sguardo su quel tratto inconfondibile fin da lontano, </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >immortalato nel "God Writing upon the Tables of the Covenant". </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >E' proprio lì che io, ottimista utopica sognatrice,<br />ho pensato una volta di più </span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;" >a cosa sia per me la sorella malinconia ...<br /><br /></span></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RtBww9GujaI/AAAAAAAAABE/uZ4pYgjyOrs/s1600-h/Scotland_2007+249.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102702364149583266" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BT5hbQZGdMw/RtBww9GujaI/AAAAAAAAABE/uZ4pYgjyOrs/s400/Scotland_2007+249.jpg" border="0" /> </a><p align="center"><br /><em style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" >La malinconia non è un sentimento...<br />Non è tristezza nè nostalgia...<br />La malinconia è uno stato d'animo profondo...<br />Non ha età ed è presente in nuce in tutti... e la si sceglie...<br />C'è chi la scopre, la riconosce, la ama e ne diventa compagno...<br />C'è chi vi si imbatte, la teme, la rifiuta e la sradaica da se stesso...<br />E' sempre presente, non solo nei momenti di dolore,</em><em style="font-family: georgia;" face="georgia"><br />ma anche e soprattutto nei momenti di gioia più intensa...<br />E proprio perchè la malinconia è lì,<br />a fare da eterna compagna,<br />si percepisce la gioia in modo ancora più viscerale...<br />La malinconia è la costante percezione dei limiti del nostro essere,<br />unita ad una tensione continua verso una completezza<br />della cui irragiungibilità si è però oggettivamente consapevoli...<br />La malinconia è inseparabile dalla percezione,<br />e dall'estenuante ricerca, della bellezza...<br />è l'occhio dell'anima che moltissimi hanno chiuso<br />per non guardare più il mondo che li circonda<br />ponendosi domande che scavano nel cuore stesso<br />del nostro essere mortali,<br />che ci aiutano a scoprire i lati oscuri e indefinibili del nostro essere...<br />La malinconia è meravigioso sospiro di infinito...<br />Il mio adorato William Blake diceva che è<br />"<span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">vedere il mondo in un granello di sabbia<br />e vedere il paradiso in un fiore di campo,<br />tenere l'infinito nel palmo di una mano e l'eternità in un ora</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"...<br /></span>E' malinconia sentirsi strettamente connessi ai ritmi naturali<br />più che a quelli imposti dal mondo in cui viviamo...<br />E' compiacimento del ritrovarsi, quando possibile,<br />in una dimensione lontana dai 'rumori dell'esistenza'...<br />E' la sensazione persistente dello scorrere del tempo,<br />dell'inizio e della fine...<br />di quanto sia effimero e inafferabile il momento che passa nel<br />momento stesso in cui lo vivi e spinge a vivere momento per momento,<br />attimo dopo attimo, per avere ricordi sempre vivi e limpidi...<br />'La malinconia non può essere sradicata se non con la terribile<br />conseguenza della perdita della musicalità della propria anima'...<br />La malinconia è nel cuore della poesia della mia anima<br />e mi regala la preziosa intensità con cui vivo tutto ciò che amo.</em><br /></p><div style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><p align="center"><br /></p><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">image & words</span><em>:</em> Lady Door</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5