How heartbreaking suffering, the suffering of another!
I do not mean much.
will seem unusual, strange, but the books I read in utime four years, there has been choice. As if, should "give me" a message.
Recently, I was attracted by a book of (hear hear) Enrica Bonaccorti - "The Sheep red."
Amazed, I have to admit that he writes very well.
At the end of the book is a little poem (the message for me).
The feeling, when the law was as if he were reciting my mother. I had the feeling of hearing his voice.
the wind, the leaves s'arrendono dancing.
lens, clocked the memory of the season
that no longer belongs to him.
without complaint, returned to the soil.
Now, that time escapes me exhausted,
steal slle leaves their sad example
and I surrender myself to the wind of silence
From Venetian s'ciào (slave, servant - in Austria and Bavaria, "Servus" ), "Your servant."
Like a relay race (a challenge), I get them and keeps your best man, mother.
As your simplicity, I conclude this post with a simple (but meaningful), greeting
Hello, Mom!
