was a beautiful day. Yesterday, Saturday. A spring sun. Anticipator. Promising. After days and days of snow, rain and fog, so heavy to oppress and corrode the thoughts of solitude and silence hermits. Li
into sloth, boredom, malinconia.
Il sole spazza via gli spiritelli nefasti che animano certi giorni oscuri in montagna d'inverno. Ombre senza luce lasciano il posto a vere ombre. Consequenza della luce. Oggi è un giorno speciale. Un ladro gentile, mercuriale, viene a commerciare le sue cose, sfuggendo ai rigori di inverno.
Non ci sarà molto da mangiare. Il pascolo è ancora arso, brullo. Erba scapina, dicono qui. Ma sotto sotto, scava solo un pochino e si scopre che la terra è umida, fertile, che giovani steli di erba si affacciano al primo teporino. Le capre lo sanno. Non sfugge loro.
Se a noi sfugge, il debito verso la terra, a loro no. Eppoi, c'è il sole e l'aria pungente e morbida, al tempo itself. Lash and caress. Shadow cutting and burning sun. What a contrast! What vitality! What refreshment for the spirit!
It does not take tranquilizers or sleeping pills, which piles as big as mountains are daily swallowed by this civilization, with incomprehensible stubbornness, we continue to defend and propagate. Hucksters of the square of the elixir of life: the best of all possible worlds! The Orphic dialogue with the animals, goats, dogs, and others, suggests to me more subdued tones. More sedate. Humble and resigned, more amon the rest of the Living. Accept it, even when we do not understand. Maybe you actually save. We have not destroyed enough already?
Stop telling me Bruna. And stops and watches me. He has to tell me something.
He, along with the others, just finished stretch their legs, with the acrobatic leaps and tumbles full of joy. Dangerously unstable even for the goats. Vertically, as they do them. When you say "jump for joy." Only that, until now, I had only seen it done by young kids and much more agile. But no! It seems to say. All we do. It is not related to age, the joy. Even agility. E 'connected to the mind. E 'state of your being. And if you think you lose too.
The path of love is not always easy. Love is the desired goal. But be merciful always faithful. Defeat, the human limitations. Crossing the threshold. Le Simplegadi del visibile, del piano manifesto. Ti stringerai alla tua amata che ti attende. Euridice. Beatrice. Madonna Povertà che 'di dì in dì abbracciò più forte'. Fedele d'Amore. Sempre. Non indugiare a prestar orecchio al vociare caotico del mercato. Sembra echeggiare Zaratustra.
Oggi ci nutriamo di sole e di aria, più che del pascolo. Sanatorio ed elioterapia, quasi ricordi della Belle époque . Ecco il mio pascolo, ieri. Manco fossimo stati a Karlsbad o al viscontiano Lido di Venezia. Siamo in pace, in armonia. Per l'erba verde, fresca, nutriente aspetteremo il giunger della primavera. E Amore in cuor mi dice che arriverà. Fedele alle sue promesse, se io sono fedele a lei.
Viaticum the highest light. He says: I am a mother, thanks to you! See my little jump into the fields as Brynhild steep that the white dress is stripping? It was not just to my white milk that has grown. Even for your hay, your treatment. Good flavors of summer, you have accumulated in the barn. Your anxieties to want to protect from the cold winter. Are you a bit 'his father. And the thought moves me. And the little Brynhild approaches in search of pampering ... , and bread.
the patience to wait for the spinning top makes a great part of its course and raises new germogi and the awakening of the earth was implicit in the joy of goats and at the same time lay a serene calm rioters on the hearts of men. In war with themselves just because of being born. Instead they were born is reason for joy, if only to receive the caresses of this sun. Tightening and calls itself as Love. Do not resist him, rejoice with us. I do not know, but you're already one of us. Augusta is pleased to see the quiet strains of a humble licorice dusty ash now drenched. Seems to taste: a little 'stringy but good! Different from the usual flavors!
As I speak to Brown and Augusta, I enter a cold knife in the side. I had forgotten. But she returned to be felt.
The sun greets us and cools to its sunset through the branches. My friends it is time to return. We're out for hours. The barn will seem hot to us shelter for the night. Tomorrow we'll see. The conversation is only postponed and postponed. Knows no interruption final. Dead incurable. It 's another day, tomorrow ...
The important thing is that the dialogue between human beings continue .... maybe you do, if possible, more intimate, stable, durable.
how to have a lover there to pasture. How faithful waiting for me. And like a vicious old or a young teenager in love ... I can not think of anything but the next appointment!
Stop telling me Bruna. And stops and watches me. He has to tell me something.
He, along with the others, just finished stretch their legs, with the acrobatic leaps and tumbles full of joy. Dangerously unstable even for the goats. Vertically, as they do them. When you say "jump for joy." Only that, until now, I had only seen it done by young kids and much more agile. But no! It seems to say. All we do. It is not related to age, the joy. Even agility. E 'connected to the mind. E 'state of your being. And if you think you lose too.
The path of love is not always easy. Love is the desired goal. But be merciful always faithful. Defeat, the human limitations. Crossing the threshold. Le Simplegadi del visibile, del piano manifesto. Ti stringerai alla tua amata che ti attende. Euridice. Beatrice. Madonna Povertà che 'di dì in dì abbracciò più forte'. Fedele d'Amore. Sempre. Non indugiare a prestar orecchio al vociare caotico del mercato. Sembra echeggiare Zaratustra.
Oggi ci nutriamo di sole e di aria, più che del pascolo. Sanatorio ed elioterapia, quasi ricordi della Belle époque . Ecco il mio pascolo, ieri. Manco fossimo stati a Karlsbad o al viscontiano Lido di Venezia. Siamo in pace, in armonia. Per l'erba verde, fresca, nutriente aspetteremo il giunger della primavera. E Amore in cuor mi dice che arriverà. Fedele alle sue promesse, se io sono fedele a lei.
Viaticum the highest light. He says: I am a mother, thanks to you! See my little jump into the fields as Brynhild steep that the white dress is stripping? It was not just to my white milk that has grown. Even for your hay, your treatment. Good flavors of summer, you have accumulated in the barn. Your anxieties to want to protect from the cold winter. Are you a bit 'his father. And the thought moves me. And the little Brynhild approaches in search of pampering ... , and bread.
the patience to wait for the spinning top makes a great part of its course and raises new germogi and the awakening of the earth was implicit in the joy of goats and at the same time lay a serene calm rioters on the hearts of men. In war with themselves just because of being born. Instead they were born is reason for joy, if only to receive the caresses of this sun. Tightening and calls itself as Love. Do not resist him, rejoice with us. I do not know, but you're already one of us. Augusta is pleased to see the quiet strains of a humble licorice dusty ash now drenched. Seems to taste: a little 'stringy but good! Different from the usual flavors!
As I speak to Brown and Augusta, I enter a cold knife in the side. I had forgotten. But she returned to be felt.
The sun greets us and cools to its sunset through the branches. My friends it is time to return. We're out for hours. The barn will seem hot to us shelter for the night. Tomorrow we'll see. The conversation is only postponed and postponed. Knows no interruption final. Dead incurable. It 's another day, tomorrow ...
The important thing is that the dialogue between human beings continue .... maybe you do, if possible, more intimate, stable, durable.
how to have a lover there to pasture. How faithful waiting for me. And like a vicious old or a young teenager in love ... I can not think of anything but the next appointment!
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