Only for a wonderful world

By Anna Frosali

This book has been written by a sensitive and the things she has foreseen have come true and are becoming true.

The sensitive made her vision of the future coincide with the year 3000, but in reality she thinks that this future is much closer to us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Youcanprint
• Release date: Oct 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9788831636230

Book preview

Indice

WE ARE A FORCE!

Chapter I.

Chapter II.

Chapter III.

Chapter IV.

Chapter V.

Chapter VI.

Chapter VII.

Chapter VIII.

Chapter IX.

Chapter X.

Chapter XI.

Chapter XII.

Chapter XIII.

Chapter XIV.

Chapter XV.

Chapter XVI.

Chapter XVII.

Chapter XVIII.

Chapter XIX.

Chapter XX.

ANNOUK AND PARALLEL WIDTH

THE CITY OF IDEAS

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

ANNE CLAIRE AND HER XX CENTURY

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

ANNOUK AND WIDTH PARALLEL

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

ANNE CLAIRE AND ITS XX CENTURY

Two

FLIGHT OF RES

Four

First days of June 1999

Five

From the parallel dimension. The city of Ideas

ANNOUK AND WIDTH PARALLEL -THE CITY OF IDEAS-

Two

Three

Four

Five

WE ARE STRONG ... AND THOSE IN THE CITY OF IDEAS

Four

ANNOUK AND WIDTH PARALLEL

ANNE CLAIRE AND ITS XX CENTURY

SIZE PARALLEL AND WE ARE SELLING

Eight

Nine

US WHO WE ARE STRONGER TOGETHER WITH THOSE OF THE CITY OF IDEAS

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

EIGHT

Note

Anna Ironwill

ONLY FOR A WONDERFUL WORLD

"The works of artists and writers

they have a longer life than the exploits

of soldiers, statesmen and merchants.

Poets and philosophers go further

of historians. But the saints and the prophets

they are worth more than all the others

put together ".

(A.J. Toynbee)

"You can come from anywhere in space and

time, wherever you want (...) 'said the old man (...)

(...) We are working on, until you get to the point where you are

able to fly into the past and into the future ... and then, later,

one is ready for the hard part ... One Ready

to fly to the highest levels. "

R. Bach Jonathan Livingston Seagull

"What is important is not seen-said the Small

Prince. -But you will look at the stars at night ...

My star will be for you one of the stars. Then all

stars will love looking at them. And all will be your friends. "

A.De Saint-Exupery Le Petit Prince

  What God sees the Mind maybe I see it

Anonymous

This novel was written from Spring to Autumn of 1999.

Some historians and environmental data reported here relate to real events that took place in that period.

The vision of the writer extends much further than to books or science fiction movie, never seen or read, or more than a vague knowledge of computers, mechanized systems, computer networks of various kinds.

Because it is exactly what it is: a vision and so must consider the reader who does not know the person.

She is intimately convinced that she was helped by something else that does not know the limits and boundaries and can rightly be defined as entities probably another dimension: a Guide.

WE ARE A FORCE!

Chapter I.

36 ... 34 ... 32 ... 30 ... phew! Today it's warm with this heavy sweater ... 30! I put the key in the lock and open. Immediately i am assailed by the darkness of the gallery.

-Jonathan ... Hey! Jona! –i shout with the remaining breath.

-Eh? What is it ?? - The voice of my brother screeches like a bicycle brake, from above the ramp.

-Come turn on the light in the gallery! You can’t see a damn thing here! -Tric. On the magic a weak gloss widens on the scale. They’re thirty-five plus three steps in front of the attic door and today i also heavy backpack. On top of these shoes they are narrow and I make my feet hurt.

I went up to the attic to see some old books i had in junior high school, and i didn’t think to put down the backpack at home. But now i close the door and go back down right away, while the curly head of Jonathan faces barely beat type of eyelids and then disappears into the house. My brother is fifteen and a half and is a bad guy, after all. The fact is that it seems to have more to do a lot of things, one after another, which seems, however, things do not have time to wait for ever. In fact, the matters that interest him the most are without a doubt, one of the girls, two or maybe even first of these, the astronomy of which is crazy, if not out of leader. I come into the house and soon Emma, our little sister comes over me literally screaming

-Anne, I'm hungry! Do you eat some good thing? -Then it sticks to my backpack like a climb rock type and is likely to pull me down.

-So, Emy! I weights on more books! -

The utility room is cluttered with all sorts of mismatched shoes. Immediately Emy slips my and her feet in an instant become those of a toy baby. Then she goes around unsteadily home.

-What time does Cosimo come back? –i ask to Jona, now lying legs hanging on the old sofa in the living room.

-Boh! At the tree ... I think! -

- Has Ètta prepared something? –I come in the kitchen and threw open the fridge. The door creaks and all these figurines of soccer players stuck over the years from my brothers, seem to put so many patches affixed to star on a home appliance that otherwise would fall to pieces.

-What is this stuff ?? – i open a plate where the float cooked bean

-mm ... disgusting! And in here, that ... is it? -

-There is the usual meat of yesterday! Jona-meets rebound, with shouldered air, from the top of its backrest.

-That the usual slab! - Now grumbles and then snorts.

-So? Do you want to eat, yes or no? And come to lend a hand ... obvious! -Jòna opens the belief, and it extracts a box for mashed potatoes.

-Come on, wash the salad, Jo, and i cook the mashed potato.-

-I’m hungry ... -cries Emy from living room.-

-While you’re waiting, play a bit with your Barbie, come that soon it is ready! -

But when, after a while, i enter the room to call her, there she’s on the carpet, asleep.

Sometimes it seems to me not to do it, to do all these things by myself, that is, to us, but then I know that I can now because they are used to it and I avoid saying some distasteful word.

Cosimo is the last to go home and Tinetta, we call it by name but it’s our mother, at three-thirty to be at the shop.

-Well guys, finish eating ... I am already tired ... Do you wash dishes, Anne? -

-Mm, okay! But even Còsi, but ... -

-No, I can’t! I'm leaving right away ... to the four we have the match ... -

-The usual excuses cabbage, I also would have something to do, though! –I snort, annoyed.

-So guys, get along, I'm going to prepare myself, is right? -

-Anne, help me to do my homework for Tomorrow! -asks Jona, the sing-song tone of occasions in favor.

-No! Anne helps me instead! She promised me ... -replies Emy with the little melodramatic air that wants all won. Fortunately, the phone rings, jumping from my chair i go to meet.

-Etta is for you! -Our mother comes out of the bathroom, made up and fragrant as a showcase doll.

-But ... do you make the order or poster advertising the store? –run away said by Cosimo and his sixteen and a half impertinent. She glares at him, before taking care of the phone to the ear.

Chapter II.

-Emy ... Emy ... by wake up! It's seven ... -Emma greenhouse eyelids then sits on the bed and whimpering shows me her teddy bear ended up upside down on the carpet.

-I want Bobo ... –I open the rolling window. A March 20 drizzly, still hidden behind a light mist which can’t hold the first light, opens wide before my eyes sleepy, up where the gaze lingers beyond the beech forest on Arno. I pick my head from the balcony now wide awake: the air is crisp and I don’t want to catch a cold.

For some reason I immediately think that tomorrow will be my birthday.

Tomorrow, the first day of spring coincides with my fourteen, twenty-one in March nineteen ninety-nine. There is only one way to end the whole second millennium. Who knows what will be next ... Who knows. But I feel no particular emotions, I'm only sorry that, being a weekday, I will have to go to school as usual and I'll have to put off until Saturday afternoon my birthday party. Here Tinetta, with its beautiful canopy of carrot-orange hair, which faces the door to see where we stand.

It 's already up and dressed to the nines and sometimes I think that more than a mother, resembles to my sister's Barbie.

-Girls, it’s already half past seven! -

-I understand, I finish combing Emma ... -

No, let me do it. Rather, put to heat your milk, now.-Among the energetic protests of Emy, our mother quickly seizes the comb and unruly curls to any hand.

-Come Còsi, let me come, I quickly ... -I repeatedly knock to the bathroom door. Then facing me into the kitchen, where Jonathan impiastriccia the face with a pound of Nutella spread double.

-Do you want milk? –he mutters.

-Ok, thanks Jo.-Cosimo comes running, and throws backpack full like a suitcase near the entrance door.

-Anne, are there croissants with jam? I'm so hungry…-

-And look for it a bit to you, as well, I have to finish getting ready! -I lock myself in the bathroom, just in time to hear the commanding voice of Leo, our father, who umpteenth acute of Emma bursts in claiming the just and respectful silence for a poor taxi driver in debt, forced to work two jobs to get things going! And so hard all day, even at night ... I repeat mentally.

Leo has done in my opinion a big mistake, which is to leave Paris to come and live in Tuscany with Mom. And another, even bigger, when he had the happy thought of sharing the costs and revenues of the taxi with his friend, Barno. And then also the shifts and schedules, so when Barno goes around by taxi, daddy has to make do as an assistant at a petrol pump and so on. It has now become a grumpy life. Now Tinetta calls me before leaving.

-I go for expenses. Think you, the rest for today? True?-

-Yes, yes mum... Quiet! -

-Bye Bye…-

Sometimes Mom looks like a colorful insect dreaming, but I don’t think it was the air of Paris to make it so, because in that case, I should be like her, because I was born in this wonderful city, and instead i don’t look  like her. As usual breakfast goes sideways, when as every morning, i arrive at this hour. Emy waits standing on the doorstep, and with his white apron and the green ribbon of first grade she makes tenderness.

-Let's go, Anne? -

-Yes. Did you put the snack in the backpack? Did you take the parasol? Come on, i better settle jacket. Well ... now we can go.-

Meanwhile Jona was stolen with his friend Tiberius and Cosimo jumped on the Mauro’s bike, of course, unknown to all.

-If Tinetta see you refreshes your ass ...! –I think.The Parini elementary school behind in high school where I go. For that Emma was entered there, so I can accompany every day.

Now it's raining less strong.

-Do you want to take the bus? –i ask her.

-No, Anne. Let us go walk ... For me it's okay ... -

Chapter III.

Where the river leaves behind the old bridges and curving tilts a bit, to form deep bend of the great Cascine Park and the southern part of the city, the largest island with its populous town in the countryside widens as an open hand, gathering in itself an entire neighborhood. Then it shuns away, between the houses, the trees, parks and other voices in the streets, to the roads leading to major highways. And in one of these inner side roads, from which you can see the edge of the river, dotted with tall plants and extending up to the wood stain, lengthen the two planes of our old house, and number of rooms is there a little narrow, but as it is put, I like very much: this is because, when the morning threw open the window, from here I can see the things you love most in the world and now they are an indissoluble part not only of my thoughts, but of my own existence. What will this rarity, this face value for Anne? You may ask. Simple and easy to understand: they are the trees. The elegant willows, white poplar trees with broad leaves, slender birches, alders and then the old oak trees and then chestnuts massive that thickens inside the park to thin out and lose where the river is to flow, under the last bridge when it leaves the city behind. And I from these trees I have learned many things: all the music of the wind and water, the changing seasons, the passage of time between the leaves and my young years, and then all that harmony of sounds that give them a perennial voice trills, warbles, whispers, squeaks, who they are with me all day, when I leave the house in the morning, the afternoon of the tasks at my desk, until the moment you turn off the light to sleep at night. And when Emma asks me

-And who is this, Anne? I recognize one by one on their side, the little friends of my days. I really like little friends I think.

-So, Cetti ... What are you so interesting to look at out the window?! - I collect and I stammer something.

-No, no prof ... it is not about that. It's just that…-

-What, math you are not very congenial, eh? –I feel face purple.

No, no ... And I watched the maple which is breaking new leaves and ... -A burst of laughter, more or less stifled, it is the best way to crown my keen powers of observation.

Skeptical says Professor Marini-you too feel the arrival of spring, eh? -The good faces of my fellow now they laugh openly.

-Guys, beware of! In a week we will take a written test and will be important ... not that you forgot is true? -It immediately called me to the blackboard to solve quite a polynomial.

At a quarter past four the phone rings.

-Hello, hello ... I'm Emy and I am doing the operations on squared notebook! Who are you? Oh yes! Do you want me to pass? All right bye. Anne! -I called.

-There Marinda your friend, keep-hands me the phone.

-Thanks, Emy. Ah! Hello Mary. No, I'm working on art history. What surprise? Have you given your new computer? Yes, if you have the diskette come right away, so we study together ... ok, we meet after.-

-Jòna, I go to Mary to study on his new PC. Yes, I take my bike, so I first ... -

-Remember to buy bread for tonight! -shouts my brother.

-But can Cosimo not think to it? –i say irritated.

-So-is-already-out-to-visit-to-the Observatory! -

-So-tell-you-we-will-close-together-in-a-those-Zombie- mummified! What the hell! Here I always have to do everything myself! -

-Mm, mm ... -This time the door closes by itself.

Marinda lives two blocks away, crossed the avenue Canova. I head a crooked little road, a blossoming of low houses, planted around a small colorful library.

In a courtyard full of geraniums, the brothers Marinda playing with the ball. They’re Argentine, dark skin and an open and jovial.

Until the nineties their parents lived in extreme poverty because of the dictatorship.

Following from Sant Juan, where they lived, they came to work in Italy.

Ezina, Marinda’s mother, has prepared donuts with honey, but Mary takes me right away by the hand and leads me into the room she shares with his brothers to show, on his study table, as an unprecedented trophy, its new PC. Although sometimes used with computers in the school, I must say that for me this brand new computer is a matter ... just as new.

-Our is now so old that at times falls to pieces-I say, looking at the blank screen laying there motionless, waiting for a command that action.

-It’s really what its name promises ... - says Mary-an open window on the world. Then inserts the disk of matter that we must study and in a moment the history of ancient Greece has no more secrets for us than those that any three-dimensional trick Nintendo may have for our brothers.

-And then ... here it is easier to study because there are many more models of knowledge, compared to a normal school says Mary-text, and rightly so.

Sure, but ours is only a database used by Leo for the job and all in all I don’t need... -Marinda gives me a sympathetic look and then asks me a question I had not expected.

-Do you ... you keep a personal diary? -

-No, really I never thought ... I always have the same notebook where, as you know, sometimes, I write some poetry ... and stop! -

-Yes, and are beautiful ... really! -Says my friend with conviction.

-Why did you ask me?-

-Mm ... well ... I thought that with the computer you may also open your diary ... super -secret ... -

Sigh. Of course with someone like this, maybe ...

As she explained how, three wild kids burst into the room.

-Where's my toy box, Marinda? asked Moreno-First was below! -Mary put our heads in the beds, then by one pulls out a large container with photographs of stuck.

-Now I want to play! -Juanito launches on the box and throws away the lid without much ado. The fabulous quarrel with tears and fury, that both know so well, flutters here and there. But luckily the lady Ezina intervenes at the right time, giving all donuts and orange juice.

-Do you come my birthday party? –i ask to Mary.

-Sure! I have already prepared a present for you, do you want to see it now or wait for Saturday? -

-Wait for Saturday ... –i say unconvinced-I will not spoil the surprise! -And I smile, savoring a delicious donut.

Chapter IV.

-Tinetta you're a disaster! -

-And you're late! –Mom comes out of the bathroom with straight hair on the curlers, lipstick incredibly purple lips and the basket of the wash cloths, packed, leaning on her robe in his hands. -Help me, do not you see I'm about to fall! -

-I had told Jona to warn you ... I've been Mary to study on his new computer ...-

-Listen Anne, we've talked about, for now we can not afford to deal with other expenses ...! -

-But I ... I did not say anything ... -As usual, I feel like a walking mortification.

-Rather, did you buy bread? –I extract from the bag a loaf a bit stale and I put it on the table.

-Uff ... come on, we prepare something for dinner ... -

-Leo ...? –i ask, just to say something. The TV on in the dining room speaks for itself.

-Cosimo, help me set the table, if you do not bother you too! –i shout, and my brother's room echoes a kind of grunt. -You do not understand? I have to finish the algebra for tomorrow !! - says.

-So have I to do it?! - Jona finally gets rid of his monstrous video ventures and entry into the kitchen while Emy begins to whine about her sudden stomach ache. At this point even Leo gets up from the chair, for comment too loudly.

-But this is not a normal house! It 'a Dantesque! Pandemonium! That's it! And I'm sick and tired ...! - Tinetta not bat an eyelid, sits one of her curls and then sings in French -Leo, Leo ... On a good boy, good boy ... -a old French spiel addressed to a dog spiteful. At that point I am intruding. And they are in the attack phase.

-So give us a hand against you, noo !!- cry, just in time to dodge the trajectory of a slap.

Then an hour later, over a plate of spaghetti and fried chicken, we find a verbalness quieter.

-Today I carried around two American ... -comincia Leo.

-So have they paid you well ... huh ?? Dad -intervenes Emy, that is apparently not always know what you speak. But only in appearance.

-They made me crazy instead! First they asked where was the Piazzale, then the Ponte Vecchio then the Signoria, then the restaurant and back to Michelangelo, then again at Pitti. And I still always there, waiting ... never anything was fine and wanted to see it all in one day! -

-On the other hand the patience is like your job and you're not the only one forced to politely deal with customers-says mom, who works all day in a perfume shop fashionable and with the word patience always feels alive. But as I know her, she faces all in a superficial manner and her behavior in the store is like a script written by a director-set designer together. Sudden comes a thought.

Mmm ... about ... I work in my little ... something I do. Student’s work, especially good, can rightly be called a job, or not?! -

-Yes, yes ... -Etta watching me with a drop of curiosity ... thank goodness ...

-Here, I meant this ... -Maybe, I think, is not really the case, but I say the same ... -I would need a certain thing, just to the school and since tomorrow is my birthday, I would have thought ... -I appeal decided Leo that bites his fried chicken. But Cosimo doesn’t give time to a response of any kind.

-Oh, for that matter I certainly work better than you if i’m almost a step away from a diploma ... It actually has long wanted to broach the subject! -Now our father passes his eyes from one to another, the drawn expression.

-What new fantasize, just today!? -

-Yes yes-presses Cosimo, - I have already sixteen and a half, almost all my friends have got the scooter ... well ... just like that ... I need a scooter for travel! -

-The only thing to which you will move quickly will that chair if you continue with this tone, but the scooter! For that there is time! -cries dad. Even Tinetta raised his voice and mumbles something in French, but we don’t understand each other perfectly. And while Cosimo doesn’t finish of replicating, bacause of agitation a clip curlers drop them into the pot. Choking back a laugh.

-If it comes to getting the deck ... I work, that cabbage! -Jona intrudes in spite of all is the echo of my thinks.-The second high school is not to be taken lightly! And indeed ... -Here shooting the first thing that springs to mind.-Actually ... I urgent need of a ... -

-I want a cat! I want to own a cat! –jumps on Emma with a mouth full of fried-potatoes ... because I need! –

Dad is highly irritable because of too busy, I might exaggerate saying that explodes always inappropriately. Anyway, it's exactly what he does at this moment: roars like a prehistoric over our heads, beginning to produce the immediate effect of remarkably silent morose, tense, in which however, no one has any idea to get up, leave the food in the pot and go to bed without supper, maybe, slamming the door of her room. Then I resume courage, shooting breath and whisper, so as to be the only one to hear my own voice.

-I'd like to have a new PC as Mary has to study better and then ... for other things and just wanted to say that ... because tomorrow is my birthday, I ...-

-But we'll have already bought a present, Anne, and also nice, as you’ll see.-

All quiet. And with this Tinetta puts an end and also the point on the discussion.

-Anne brought the pizzas and a Cola -Glauco ... takes a bag from his hands. Immediately Alex, Melandri and Roberto, Giulio comes forward to peer at the pizzas.

-Are you starving? Hands off of there!–they shout in one voice Sandra, Alessia, Mary and Claudia.

-Happy Birthday!-Telling all along-but ... do you celebrate today too?-

-Of course!-I exclaime, infatuated- today is my day X, on Saturday we are at my house, okay? -They pull me affectionately by the ear and give me a light kiss on the cheeks. The teacher of Letters, Ms. Prisca, enters the classroom and immediately detects a stir.

-Be calm, eh? Girls ... What happens now? -

-Nothing prof. is the birthday of ... Anne Claire ... -Deborah is the mouthpiece of the event and then we put ourselves seated with a cackle of chairs being moved.

-So ... Congratulations to our poet ... -

-Merci beaucoup ... –i say and become dark pink.

-Well, let's see ... who wants to start with our Promessi Sposi? -

-Come, Fulvio.-With the greatest reluctance Ricci picks up the book and goes to the chair. So begins another day of school.

Vale and Marinda turn for a moment to ask softly-Then ... what have gave you your parents? -

-The new bike. They had put in the garage, but I saw immediately.-

-It’s nice gift.-

-Yes but i don’t need much ... -

-Yeah, already-is their laconic comment. They know very well that when Emma is still at school in the afternoon is always the friend of my brother gives me a ride on a motorbike.

-On, girls shut up, please! -says the Prisca.

Mr. Manzoni calls us to duty.

-Let's do some street together! -Says Marinda. And we take the arm in groups of four and five. We laugh a bit of everything, then I say-I do not go home today. I thought to go in perfumery, as Tinetta.-

-But is the store hers?-asks Claudia with a hint of curiosity. Burst out laughing.

-Maybe! No, no, Mom does the job, of course, is bilingual and, long story short, this job ... she needs to pay the mortgage of our house. But at the same time she would like to buy a new one! -

-All the parents I know have real problems or invented ... -says Marinda, with a tight smile.

It's almost one o’clock, it's a beautiful sunny day and I can take the bus to the city center. When I get to the store mom she is going out with some co-workers.

Exalted as in a discussion about I do not know what brand of perfume, she does not notice me right away.

-Mum ... –i call her suddenly-Mum !! – she turns exhibiting now also one of his extravagant pettinature. Oh Anne-Claire …Happy Birthday, dear.-Her colleagues join the chorus of good wishes.

-For tonight we will send you a gift, Anne. Are you happy? -

-Yes, thanks you very much.-

-Mom, please do not speak French in front of your friends, i am also Italian, finally ... -

-I know, perhaps you would have preferred to be born in Australia? And call Anne, in English, then that is the same thing! -

Tinetta performs a dazzling smile, knows my passion for Australia.

-Finally mom, I was saying something else ... -

-There have sworn. You, the Australian steppe, kangaroos ... you are all one! Just see how you're dressed. Those jeans are wrinkled like a tent! - But she is very elegant with layers variously scattered jewelery on hands and wrists, neck and ears.

-Mom, Australia is a beautiful country, with wildernesses and ... could be a paradise for ecologists. I really like it!-

-Did it really fixed this nature eh! But in the meantime, we live in a city of art as there are few ... -

-So, Mom, I was saying another thing and that is that ... I belong to the earth, I feel like a citizen of the world, but they are also Italian. Do you understand what I mean? I –Meanwhile i push by hand the door of a large glass door.

-And now why did you bring me to the library? -

-I search for a book of Japanese poetry ... -

-And why do you study this stuff? -Mom looks at me stunned.

- We don’t study them, although I think it would be nice to know the works of certain writers eastern.-

-That is, I'd like to know. The reason is that the prof. Prisca told me that I write poems that sometimes resemble a little to those written by certain ... Japanese poets. So I want to know what it is ... -

-Well, Anne, but I unfortunately do not have time to keep you company ... -And now busy looking in the bag for the car keys.

-See you at home.-

-Ok ... hello ... -Then a thought goes through my head.

-Mum…-

-What is it? -Tìn turns to look.

-In recent years, did you visit several works of art in this city -

-Mm? No, but ... I promise, as soon as I get a little free time, going to museums and everything else ... Okay? -She smiles.

-On sunday-I say.

With a quick hand greeting, mother runs away from the library.

Chapter V.

-What is this, Anne? -Emma was sitting at my desk.

-L'e-t-er-no-in-tem-po-accomplished properly.

-You are good, Emy, read carefully! -Happy, my sister continues-Anthology-of-poetry-Japanese ... What is Anne? -

-Is'what you said. One thing a little difficult to understand, for you.

- Must you study for school? -

No, no. I read it to me, in short, on my own. I have written poems that interest me ... -

-Can I see Anne? -

-Of course!-

Emy browses a few pages, but immediately closes the book. -There are no figures-she explains.

-So-i answer-patiently- while you go to your room and do your homework, I'll read a bit of this book, all right? -

-Yes, well, hello ... -

-Hello, Emy.-

I put myself comfortable on the mat and open the front pages. A world that i don’t know, away, mysterious and secret unfolds before my eyes. Immediately read words never heard and incomprehensible to me, true poetry collections that resemble me a lot, full of deep meanings, sensitivity to the rhythms of time, the aspects of nature, emotions are also part of me, no that i am completely aware. As the ancient Japanese who did not use words to indicate the nature, I feel I belong to the earth and that the earth, in a way, mine.

This writing interests me a lot, it is a great poet of the '700 named Basho, who wrote:

The inner time in tune with the rhythms of nature, is the essence of the poetic genre known as the haiku name. Compose a haiku means to express in words the light in which things will appear and the world (...). If you ask your inner feelings in harmony with external things the essence of your spirit will become haiku .

I sigh and think that what I'm reading is simply sublime.

- Spring drizzle/ the immense smile / earth / above the Fields- Chiyoyo.

-Spring drizzle / drips from the roof of an old honeycomb. Basho

-First winter rain / even the monkey would take a mantellino / straw Basho

Sudden, another thought flashed through my head.

Yes quickly ponder. The teacher. Prisca is right.

These poems resemble a little to those I write ... -But right now Jona enters the room, with the Latin text in hand.

-Anne, help me for this version-snake? Eh ?? -

-Wait a moment Jona, I would satisfy myself before a thing.-Jona lies down on the bed of Emma, and put the book on his head.

Then begins to make verses of all kinds at the matter, the homework, the school and the whole world, as long as they speak of Romans and latin.

-UAH! What weight on the head! -

-How six blatant! For a poor version of a few lines! – i sketch a chuckle and while under a pile of notebooks inside the desk drawer he pulled out one with a blue cover.

-Sorry a moment-I say vaguely-I reread a moment things that I wrote ... - Jona rises on the bed.

-Can I see too? -

-Yes, why not ... –i open the notebook.

Collect the sun is written on the title page and read on.

Before slipping the clouds / here and there among the trees. The children