Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn,
dark foliage in the gold-orange glow,
A gentle wind blows from the blue sky,
The myrtle stands silent and the laurel?
you know it?
There! then
I go with you, my beloved draw.
Johann Goethe
(Conosci tu la terra dove i fioriscono limoni, gli aranci fra le foglie dorati rilucono Scure, una mite dal cielo azzurro Brezza spira, il mirto immoto resta alto e si l'Erge Alloro, you know her, perhaps? Tis there With you, my love, I want to go.)
And everyone on TV said Saviano, who spoke of Vendola broom in Milan and Renzi, who spoke of destruction of a ruling class in Florence, Bersani that he remained in Rome to talk with those before. All
to say, Silvio B. and of yet another minor bitch.
I did not think it makes me laugh more than anything, I realized listening Benigni in the program of Fazio and Saviano, who did not laugh at all.
I understood a little 'before actually, as I listened to who spoke Saviano Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino, and I realized that all together then, when the highway and then a street in Palermo blown up in '92, it was more or less the last time when this country seemed a .
I realized that since then - from that Sunday afternoon in a house that is no longer mine for a long, petrified with a man who is no longer mine for a long - has been nearly 20 years, or about half of my life.
I was reminded all set for release last year Capaci summer was hot and the air thick and murmuring things (even so) the broom and pittosporum Montale I love so much, something where six-called John-where-six, and I was crying behind his sunglasses.
So I was clear, friends of the goat, who simply can not forgive any of them, for the past twenty years.
to say, Silvio B. and of yet another minor bitch.
I did not think it makes me laugh more than anything, I realized listening Benigni in the program of Fazio and Saviano, who did not laugh at all.
I understood a little 'before actually, as I listened to who spoke Saviano Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino, and I realized that all together then, when the highway and then a street in Palermo blown up in '92, it was more or less the last time when this country seemed a .
I realized that since then - from that Sunday afternoon in a house that is no longer mine for a long, petrified with a man who is no longer mine for a long - has been nearly 20 years, or about half of my life.
I was reminded all set for release last year Capaci summer was hot and the air thick and murmuring things (even so) the broom and pittosporum Montale I love so much, something where six-called John-where-six, and I was crying behind his sunglasses.
So I was clear, friends of the goat, who simply can not forgive any of them, for the past twenty years.
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