Mettiamo che..
c'è un sentiero che si snoda nel bosco tra tappeti di foglie cadute,
si allunga all'orrizzonte vago del mare su frantumate conchiglie
e i suoni si fondono tra l'onda e il ciarlare di uccelli,
mentre il vento soffia costante fischiando tra i rami,
riempiendo vele di nuvole che navigano veloci sul pelo dell'acqua.
Say ...
the walls are black and the background is already dark,
to the stars hide their faces in the glow of the moon,
where the view stretch on reflexes,
getting lost in the bristles of brushes,
raise the nails from the crust.
Say ...
peace reigns in the game of the senses,
touching the elements of nature,
hidden from the printed side of the moon,
where the eyes are half closed contours delineating that excite,
where the sound is dipped in the waves,
carrying hints of fish silent
flowing images of feathers that cut through the air,
where emotion reigns.
Say ...
the music of nature invades us,
but the silence is only punctuated by the pounding of blood
the heartbeat
and as an orchestra that has no director,
one can distinguish the rustle of leaves,
cleave the air with the wings of seagulls,
tribal way of long lines of ants ,
the muffled sound of claws flying the wind .....
Say ...
each step is always the beginning of the path of the forest,
that stretches beyond the horizon of the sea,
in this dark fact of traces of lights,
in this silence made of scraps of sound,
naked
with their mouths slightly open in astonishment,
looking up the mountain top
and smiling at stone held in his hand,
that clings to absorb the essence,
jumping on the water surface
reflecting the furrow between the circles of his dives.
Say ...
his eyes sinking into his eyes,
I can see me,
I can see you,
supports that if the fingers on my lips Can you hear my words,
clenching your wrists I feel pulsing through your veins
and the air is full of the smell our
and as I bite you can feel your taste.
Say ...
this is the Our world
and floats like a nucleus in the midst of other
and moving like wild beasts,
hungry every Noi.
And where the nails are ready for branding,
claws are ready to protect,
as steel blades reflect our serenity ,
on the cutting edge of the harsh reality.
Crudo is not cruel ...
Pure scary ..
Say ...
we are always at the beginning of the path of the forest,
that winds over the horizon of the sea
and silence the roots cling to land,
wet from the wind,
heated water,
on which blows the heat of the fire.
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