Backyard Privacy Ideas

In attesa del nuovo anno...



It 's a hope and a wish for all the love that the whole universe obeys. I would have preferred that the voice of Carmen felt more, because my Pais is a great musician and a great lyricist, but the voice of Carmen I like best ...

What Kinda Skates Does Ovechkin Wear

Auguri al Paese

I wonder if I'd been born elsewhere. I think not. I need these gardens of lemon trees and the sky. I also need to see from time to time the thin red tongues coming down from the mouths of our mountain. You are a presence impossible and push them off and I have a normal relationship as those seen in the show Americans love a mountain that spits fire, keep her picture on this kind of large table that is my land, does not make sense . So I know you're in another and the fact that remind me every morning is not good for me. Now I'm noticing me that I grew up among the unfinished. Maybe that's why I am accustomed to this mindset. I do not like it at all things complete. These structures remain cost much money, work and effort And I can not finish anything. Now I'm here in front of my computer and think of you, I think that your straight road called Corso Italy, I think of you as two crooked eyes, one larger and one cchiu nicareddu, near the sea. From a distance you can not see the dirt and the greyness of your streets of your population. But I am convinced that it would take removing paint the gray and black would come out and just off the colors, which are under now and everything seems brighter and cleaner.
you than another? You know that you are of another and that he is jealous. But they remain linked to trafficking of machines, this pasta in the middle of the country, the masses of the promenade of Ripon, the pinion and Cerza the landscape of my childhood. The vuoi capire o no che ti amo? Dovrei anche dirtelo? Si magari un giorno troverò il coraggio e te lo dirò. Intanto ti auguro buon Natale, Stratuni di petra nivura, a tia e a tutti i tuoi cari.
I.

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In Memoria

"Repost: già postato il 05/12/2007"

Oggi mi è capitato di leggere questa poesia di Ungaretti.
Voglio postarla perché, intanto mi ricorda i morti che nessuno o quasi ricorda o ricorderà.
Oggi "Moammed Sceab" è mio padre, Bonaventura Salvatore, che è morto esattamente dieci anni fa.
E mi ricorda anche i senza patria: coloro che fuggono dalla terra di nascita e si rifugiano in un posto a cui non appartengono, neanche se si cambiano the skin or the name, to those who can not dissolve the singing of the abandonment of the cemetery and are accompanied only by a friend and an old lady.

IN MEMORY.
Locvizza September 30, 1916. His name

Moammed Sceab

Descending
of emirs of nomads

suicide because he had not
Homeland

I love France and changed his name was Marcel

but it was French and did not know


live in the tent its
where listening to the chanting of the Koran

with a coffee

And he did not know the song


dissolve its abandonment

I took him along with the landlady
where we lived in Paris

by the number 5, rue des Carmes
wilted down the alley.

rests in the cemetery of Ivry
suburb that seems to always


a day in a fair
decomposed

And maybe I only know yet who lived

Camara In Side A Vergina

Un illustre parere sul ponte dello Stretto

Linko an interesting article containing a 'interview with an expert. And I have to say that if you really wanted the good of Sicily would not be so easily demagoguery on this thing.

previous posts related:
a-project-final-for-the-bridge
the bridge

Greetings to all
I.