My lovely car 


Love is not love if it alters when it finds alteration, or tends to fade away when the other walks away. Oh no!  Love is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; Love alters not within brief hours or weeks, But bears it out in daylight

Sometimes being alone….

“The echo of a whisper has gone off in the shadow of an eclipse   among the darkest depths of my tears

   but it will shine among the stars that night ingioiellano

   breathe in the branches of the woods that I love

    It will smell on a summer evening

    among the crickets and the grain and like a caress

    You shall rest upon me, slowly. ”