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Meeting Bench

LEAVE THE BERTHS: Paddlers and crew, pilgrims and mice. Everyone was waiting for the pilot to tame the winds and the seabed, dodging enemy flotillas

………………………………….Before leaving the dock in front of the Palazzo Ducale in Venice, Giacomo looked closely at the galley on which he embarked with his followers. In addition to the crew and the rowers, the boat was packed with hundreds of pilgrims going to Jaffa, a must to go to Jerusalem, to visit the Holy Sepulchre. All were waiting for the ...

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FIVE GOOD REASONS: This night I have kept your hand enclosed in mine, along with a few words. They are ours, I beg you, divide them along with me

WORDS OF SILENCE. In the purity of what is beside you, sometimes wear a simple apron. They have skilled hands to touch the clouds, stroking stunned the harmony of each denser meaning. When you speak to the silence,  you are covered with intimacy and  you listen with amazement of fellowship. Still, in the silence, someone says something. Still, with silence, ...

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THE BIG TREE OF AFFINITY: Ben visible to the eyes, in the great battle for life, grow new shoots of Archer’s Post

………………………Every day, in that unforgettable summer, Carlo Vanni and Rossella Fanti   they put themselves at the service of others, but finding the time to get away from the Mission for a few hours, consolidating common knowledge that natural selection is clearly visible in their eyes, according the principle that the qualities were inherited at corresponding ages, could modify the egg, ...

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THE LOCKS OF GABCIKOVO: The Ocean’s Green West Slovakia, where seven-tenths of what you are, can you find the three-tenths of what you’re looking for

A lone Vespa enthusiast, off Ocean Green Western Slovakia, has lost any reference point and can not find the way to Gabcikovo. Lost in the banks of the Danube, he experiences the special character of that expanse of grass, hay and water that surrounds it, but it changes its perceptions, visual and emotional, which are beyond its control. Start a ...

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ON FLIGHT, THE INK OF EMOTIONS: Open the window at night, looking at the inner depths of the universe

………………………………………………………………………<< Jacques, I wanted to stop writing many times, or simply to refuse my thoughts that led me to be so different from other people. Now thou art come into my life, maybe you understand my arrows flying that whisper their stories. My dives are deep in the brush, there remain in the ink hot desire for you. The ink ...

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THE NIGHT OF AKIKO YOSANO: A whole spring enclosed inside a peony, observing the body where it remains something of yesterday

“Love or blood? Throughout the spring peony is in this that haunts me. Night falls, I’m alone, alone without a poem.” Her name is Akiko and was born in a winter day in 1878, giving us by her death – in the spring of 1942 – the indelible charm of its tanka poems, where the five lines formed syllables (5, ...

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WITH ROAD 502, TO THE CAVES OF Driny: In the heart of the Little Carpathians, noting the “Petrified Bride” next to stalactites and stalagmites.

Hello. Looking through my travel books, I found one that speaks of Western Slovakia, and a place not far from Bratislava, the caves of Driny – 2 km south-west from Smolenice – accessible by road 502, in about an hour travel from what the Slovaks call “small big city”. I also found some photographs, and it is with these images ...

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THE RAIDERS OF THE SEA: Staying in ambush or escape, to escape the prison of the oar

In the previous May, the Turkish pirates had landed suddenly in Recanati, port and plundering the countryside, carrying thirty slaves. In June, were discovered two Turkish ships, each with forty men in ambush in a merchant ship, but they were chased by four Venetian galleys. One of those ships had gained ground to escape, but the entire crew was killed ...

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FERNANDO ANTONIO NOGUEIRA PESSOA: I get lost if I encounter, I doubt if I find

“I get lost if I encounter, I doubt if I find, I do not have if I got it. As if I walk, I sleep, but I’m awake. As if asleep, I wake up, and I do not belong. At the end of life is in itself a great insomnia and there’s a shiny rude awakening in everything we think ...

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THE SCENT OF APPLES: Arriving in a lonely island, made of hay and tied, hugging each other, in all the shores of their own emotions

…………………………………………In the previous night of the Full Moon, the Frenchman who spoke two languages ​​had declared his love for the little girl Morava – which had haunted him from the first look – using the few words of German language he knew. Both knew that the next day there would battle, but the woman had come into his life by ...

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