WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: – Time to Say Goodbye/Con te partirò, by Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli

The Meeting Benches way: a perfectly proportioned man, created by Leonardo da Vinci, correlating the symmetry of human anatomy to the symmetry of the universe. That geometrical way of the mind, could live with the simplicity of the sides of a charming square, where joy, surprise, expectations and approval are four emotions in motion. What you see, hear, eat and …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: The wind will carry us, by Black Desire

The Meeting Benches way: a perfectly proportioned man, created by Leonardo da Vinci, correlating the symmetry of human anatomy to the symmetry of the universe. That geometrical way of the mind, could live with the simplicity of the sides of a charming square, where joy, surprise, expectations and approval are four emotions in motion. What you see, hear, eat and …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Rolling towards sud, by Negrita

The Meeting Benches way: a perfectly proportioned man, created by Leonardo da Vinci, correlating the symmetry of human anatomy to the symmetry of the universe. That geometrical way of the mind, could live with the simplicity of the sides of a charming square, where joy, surprise, expectations and approval are four emotions in motion. What you see, hear, eat and …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Born to be wild, by Steppenwolf

The Meeting Benches way: a perfectly proportioned man, created by Leonardo da Vinci, correlating the symmetry of human anatomy to the symmetry of the universe. That geometrical way of the mind, could live with the simplicity of the sides of a charming square, where joy, surprise, expectations and approval are four emotions in motion. What you see, hear, eat and …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Francis Cabrel, October

OCTOBER The branches will creak in the wind, the mist will come in its white dress. Everywhere the Leaves will lie on the stones. October will grasp its revenge. The sun will barely show up. Our bodies will hide under bits of wool. Burried in your shawls in the evening you will walk past October asleep near the fountains. Surely …

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FIRST DAY: Poetry, by Jacques Prévert

FIRST DAY White sheets in a closet, red sheets in a bed. A child in a mother, the mother in pain. The father in front of the room, room in the house. The house in the city, the city in the night. Death in a cry, and his son in life. (Jacques Préverts) http://www.amazon.co.uk/Selected-Poems-Jacques-Prevert/dp/1870841964

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THE PLAGUE: Novel, by Albert Camus

THE PLAGUE The plague, is built like a tragedy in five acts. This novel has sold more than 5 million copies. By reading, you will find that your doctor Rieux discovered the corpse of a rat on his landing, but a few days later, a news agency announces that more than six thousand rats were collected that day. The epidemic …

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LEDA: Poetry, by Rubén Darío

LEDA     The swan in the snow shadow appears; its beak is amber, candles dawn; the soft twilight that passes so brief candid dyes your wings of light. And then, in waves of blue lake, after dawn lost its glow, wings outstretched neck and remove the retainers, Silver Swan is bathed in sunlight. That is, when the feathers silk …

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