“Time passes. Listen. Time passes.
Come closer now“
I have thought this, driving around Ardea (of which Turnus was once the king), listening to the radio “Under Milk Wood” of Dylan Thomas (“Time passes. Listen. Time passes. Come closer now”).
I wrote this in english, just because there is no difference. And it is not yet finished
It is the day before the last day of the year
Gigantic and gray clouds cover half of the entire sky
They hide you from your errors and faults
They hide you from your sorrow and distresses
They hide you from anyone or anything that is bad
But the other half of the sky is open, and blue
It has no mercy on you
It has no pity on you
It offers you no refuge
It just makes you free to see that in front of you, beyond all this, nothing extends
Which is blue only by chance, only for a chromatic illusion
I prefer to stay in the covered part
Close to the brown tuff wall, created by nature to be seen and imitated by men
30th December 2020, 8 am, near Ardea
