Photography Thoughts

One night
passed to plot
map of your moles,
count your sighs;
to enjoy your moans.
One night
moved to love,
to love,
until it was time
to separate:
"Is so late
which is almost soon. "

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Moonset
rock the last
sunbeam

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I fell in love
your eyes,
gave you
heart.
Years passed
and seasons,
I saw leaf
attached to your branch,
pending 's breath
wind
and heat
sun.
Still resist
and if I ever fall
smile ',
because 'finally
then,
t'accarezzereri

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In the villages of the Alpujarras exploded the cry of rebellion. Tired of injustice and humiliation, the Moriscos are fighting against Christians that have forced them to conversion. And 1568. Between Muslim rebels stands a boy of fourteen incredibly blue eyes. His name is Hernando.

Born from a vile act of brutality - his mother morisca was raped by a Christian priest - the young blood mixed suffers the rejection of his people. The revolt is his chance for redemption: thanks to his generosity and courage, won the respect of fellow more or less powerful. But there are those who, moved by envy, plot against him. And when the hell knows clashes Fatima, a girl from the huge almond-shaped eyes blacks carrying a baby in her arms, must do everything to keep it away from his stepfather. Thus began the long love story between Fatima and Hernando, a frustrated love for a thousand hardships and marked by a continuous lost and found. But the image of mother child in the memory, Hernando continue to fight for their own fate and that of his people.
Even when you look down in his life the young Catholic Isabel ...

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Often we do not appreciate what we "tie" to people.

And as people in a relatively short period of time we can "enter" deep.

Today my daughter finished elementary school. End of a cycle. Gearbox. Beginning of "growing up" ... but yesterday the "greetings" to her teacher for 5 years which also will retire at the end of the month ... like a fountain.
Tears in torrents, with hiccups.
A weeping true.
Showed me affection and made me Magone well to me.
And I started thinking about what I have left of my "masters".
"My" teacher of elementary ... Sicilian woman who loved her work and be seen.
Then a deputy at middle and high school teachers 2: Italian and Technology.
People who have left something "beyond" the simple concepts.
People I'd like to meet from new and that if I went back I would know and understand more.

So we welcome the tears ... that remind us still have emozioini ... and to be alive.
Although ... tears are "young people" who simply want to say "I love you."

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I saw you,
harmonious dance
in the rain.
Light and sensual
Laugh while the water you bathe
face and clothes.
Enlarge arms
spoiling the world
and me
that happy,
to meet you,
pointing to a melody
to warm the soul
and accompanying
no more 'your
but our
steps.

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Thank you all. Everything.
2 Days intense ... maybe I do not fully lived because 'I can not let me slip things "on him."
But 'after 14 years at a time really to be framed.
Words, moments, emotions ... even emotion.
Lump in throat during the movie ...
Take me 'behind the smiles ... and the desire to be together, hoping not to have to wait another 14 years for noise produced "the family".

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Tangled skein
love;
taken as a whole
softness,
to extricate
not enough life.
In this game
endless
"No more 'like you":
better to lose
loving
who win
without having loved.
I look up to heaven,
looking for the same star,
the same horizon.
still feeling
caress
heart.

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