Ciao. Non credo tornerò più qui. That's a goodbye, bye bye.
(close a door, open the next.)







the forest where the sun shines through the leaves



"Reaping and singing by herself;
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
Will no one tell me what she sings?—
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago,
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
The Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more."

— The Solitary Reaper (extracts), W. Wordsworth