Il vento soffia impetuoso oggi. Rende il cielo ancora più limpido, terso, profondo. Un cielo turchese, che ci fa sentire tanto piccoli. Basta viaggiare con il pensiero, staccando i piedi dalla Terra. Salire, salire, e poi salire ancora. Vedere tutto sotto di noi sempre più piccolo, mentre la dimensione che ci circonda si fa sempre più infinita, con spazio vuoto sopra, sotto ed intorno a noi. Il sole tramonta, the sun rises. The moon becomes full, the moon is new. The seasons run fast. Every second is a second shooting that had, every day is a day that begins to live is often the same as that experienced before.
We racked my brains to change the world, from small things around us, but the world never changes. It all goes, as if our small scratch on the vast land had already been cleared by the wind. As David Van De Sfroos sings, "will arrive shortly in cancel my wake, but the mark left by my story will never be erased."
Well, perhaps this is the hope. Everything is cleared, but our history will not be never deleted. Signs of stories, like streaks of stars in the clear sky, to which many cling giving a fleeting desire ...
(in my picture today: getting lost in the infinity of the Garden of Eve Montevecchia High)
0 comments:
Post a Comment