Meeting Benches World art in all forms

DREAM   Black and hard detachment that I stand as thou. Why do you cry? Give me  better to hand, promise to return in a dream. We are like two mountains, We not meet again in this world. If only, when midnight comes, you send me a greeting with the stars. (Anna Andreevna Akhmatova) http://www.amazon.it/Selected-Poems-Anna-Andreevna-Akhmatova/dp/0002710412

Sitting next to a tiller, to look after, you can carefully observe the banks open. Although not wanting to, you follow a track without curbstones that follow behind these waters, rotting and still, always. When the eye does not look at the banks, is a face that rises from the depths stomach, like a fish that lives at the bottom …

HOLD MY HAND Hold my hand at sunset, when the light of day goes out and darkness slips his cloth of stars. Keep it tight, when I can not live this imperfect world. Hold my hand, take me where time does not exist. Keep it close in hard living. Hold my hand, in the days when I feel disoriented, sing …

I THINK OF YOU I think of you, from the bosom of the sea when the sun rises and its rays darts. I think of you, when the moonlight wave serene whitens. I think of you, when it goes away the dust along the path, and in the dark night, when the passenger on the bridge, the heart leaps with …

I CALL YOU RISE OR FALL What your name: rise or decline? Because sometimes I fear I am, and the red of her roses tend cautious, and I sense a fear in his flute, for those days without singing and without end. But myths and mine, I feel the evenings, the dim light of my gaze. The forests, between my …