L'argento di certe mattine d'inverno, in silenzio si insinua tra le sagome nere del bosco
Presenze inquiete, immobili, piegate su se stesse, quasi sofferenti, tenaci testimoni di antichi secreti.
Foschi simulacri impietriti dal gelo, quasi umane espressioni, forse tracce di tempi andati.
L'argento di certe mattine d'inverno si stende veloce sull'erba fredda, scivola lungo le sponde del fiume, ne carezza l'acqua increspata e rimbalza via in riflessi d'incanto.
Fruscii di luce, quasi fiotti di metallica bellezza, quasi benedizioni inattese e speranze avverate
Salgono verso il cielo portati dall'aria in rivoli lenti e sinuosi, si attaccano ai rami delle foglie e brillano come pietre rare tra i rami che il sentiero separa.
Nel vuoto di suoni e nell'assenza di colore, nell'indefinita sensazione di appartenere a questo pulsante mondo in risveglio, a questa promessa che si schiude lentamente di fronte a te ed insieme a te, è in tutto questo che l'argento di certe mattine sa strapparti un sorriso.
E inondare di gioia la tua anima.
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Frames on the wall as windows staring at a different time and story
Broken windows as frames to a world imprisoned in invisible cages 
I count the scratches on what remains of the plaster
Smooth and white it was, ancient strength turned now into broken shapes
And snippets of colours, now
Dumb monument under an infinite sky only lusting for the rain, 
To wash away so many memories, so many regrets
I can see them clearly now, and mention them one by one
The touch of the time, the story of someone, the lost of someone, the mystery in the picture, the voice of the wind, the noise of the city
the bites of the life, the borders not to pass, the joy of freedom, the unknown horizon, the way back home,
the tricks of the past, the troubles of the present
Categories in your mind for lining up the world
And give it a meaning it has not

The grass is growing green and luxuriant, and the day is still young and generous they say
but I'd better leave 'cause too many clouds seems to gather so fast at the horizon
And the storm could come soon to remember us that a roof, even a small one, is sometimes what we need the most.

Cover of the album "Led Zeppelin IV" used as background

When the shops lining the streets are shelters for the rain
And trickles of cold water slowly slip down on the glass as tears in the dark
And the night is lulled by the murmur of distant traffic
And air smells of ozone, and the elegant red haired lady suddenly turns and meet your eyes
And each one stares the other silently as the gaze gets deeper and addictive 
And those eyes glitter as diamonds
And both hint a smile and the world fades away
Then there is magic around.