City - St.Petersburg State - RUSSIA Country - Italy
About
If I walk the noisy streets, Or enter a many thronged church, Or sit among the wild young generation, I give way to my thoughts.
I say to myself: the years are fleeting, And however many there seem to be, We must all go under the eternal vault, And someone's hour is already at hand.
When I look at a solitary oak I think: the patriarch of the woods. It will outlive my forgotten age As it outlived that of my grandfathers'.
If I caress a young child, Immediately I think: farewell! I will yield my place to you, For I must fade while your flower blooms.
Each day, every hour I habitually follow in my thoughts, Trying to guess from their number The year which brings my death.
And where will fate send death to me? In battle, in my travels, or on the seas? Or will the neighbouring valley Receive my chilled ashes?
And although to the senseless body It is indifferent wherever it rots, Yet close to my beloved countryside I still would prefer to rest.
And let it be, beside the grave's vault That young life forever will be playing, And impartial, indifferent nature Eternally be shining in beauty.
notevole.. cioa rossano.. un notevole insieme di forme, colori e lineamenti.. la silhouette della statua č perfettamente nera in perfetto contrasto con la trama dell'albero e il cielo.. molto bella e about ok! ciao roby 7
Hey Rossano, thanx for your comment to me and ofcourse I will retype a message , I think this is a wonderful picture in combination with the poem, it's excellent. And overall a very impressive portfolio you have. All the best. Marco.
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{K:209486} 2/13/2006
, I think this is a wonderful picture in combination with the poem, it's excellent. And overall a very impressive portfolio you have. All the best.