is again disconnected from the waves of memory, the frames worse than my previous experience in Bologna. I already knew the fallibility of courage, but I wanted to go further: luckily my life prospects have sunk the replay between chills and silence. During the journey and in his epilogue, I had the support of the music of Robert Wyatt, the buzz words of one who loves me and believes in me, then that of a short poem that insults the crisis, preferring a love that burns. BBB (Bologna Burn Burn) is my personal caption to this poem and I thank Franco for optimism donatomi.
A hug, see you soon. Luca.
Beyond the gates of the temple
a fireplace and a secret
guarded by a priestess.
This is our empire
whose boundaries are the perimeters
of our hearts.
In the chaos of this era
synchronicity of our heartbeat
defend with blood and the sword of our love.
the winter comes and the core of a star
or that of a stone
energy will protect the passage of our days.
Franco
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