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Following an ecstatic path,

hearing the happy harmony of the Nature,

drown the own black existance...

And going back to get lost

in the echoes of a sylvan life

and feel the bitterness

of the return to the normality...

to cross the border of the purity

to immerse yourself into the daily apathy.

Wrapped by black fumes,

that chocke the moral,

of these artificial giants

of sempiternal factories.

Machineries that sow promises,

that fill the mind with miseries,

that constrain to forget

and to decay...

And in the end you can only admire

that precious painting, natural kingdom,

that you can only gently touch

look back and wait, and contemplate...

Peering each dawn and dusk,

but to extract from the deep

a remembrance and see

what remains from it:

the lacks and the vainness.