cque A sparkling crystal, butterflies in the air like confetti 
a, lush vines 
cover trunks and twisted branches that do not see the sky, vines are supported by other plants clinging with a dense network.
a, lush vines 
cover trunks and twisted branches that do not see the sky, vines are supported by other plants clinging with a dense network. Perfumes primordial spreads in the air, flashes of light here and there reminiscent of the beginning of life with big leaves and burdock drink to be covered with moss dripping drops of pure. Along the deep and intricate throat smooth gigantic boulders and logs 
giants remain there to guard the river, each filled are moved by the fury of water, talk about incredible strength, raging currents and eddies terrifying and hostile.
The water is freezing. The aroma of herbs penetrate the thickened muscle from prolonged exercise. As an explorer I am thrown in another time and another place
. When the throat narrows boiled sparkling crystals made of glittery fun dancing on big boulders, then the stream is open and placid valleys where light comes stealing pieces of sky blue.
giants remain there to guard the river, each filled are moved by the fury of water, talk about incredible strength, raging currents and eddies terrifying and hostile. The water is freezing. The aroma of herbs penetrate the thickened muscle from prolonged exercise. As an explorer I am thrown in another time and another place
. When the throat narrows boiled sparkling crystals made of glittery fun dancing on big boulders, then the stream is open and placid valleys where light comes stealing pieces of sky blue. I smell blood. I realize that one deep cut copious blood oozes from the elbow. No bad 
or too much Christmas helps me tighten around your arm a handkerchief to avoid some of the tasty flies 
vital fluid can joyously. My arms are covered with strips bleeding caused by the passing of traits from intricate brambles. Heal.
or too much Christmas helps me tighten around your arm a handkerchief to avoid some of the tasty flies 
vital fluid can joyously. My arms are covered with strips bleeding caused by the passing of traits from intricate brambles. Heal. Those that have not healed the wounds inflicted on the heart of life from scratch. There are wounds that fail to heal. Remain forever, as marks on a cutting board.
Where will this water! How much progress still has to go to find peace in the sea of \u200b\u200beternity!?
As our vita. Quanta strada ancora ci aspetta per arrivare (se arriveremo) al traguardo che ci attende. Sarà un traguardo? o un nuovo inizio? Sarà la fine di un dolore? o l’inizio di una nuova gioia? Quante domande!
Where will this water! How much progress still has to go to find peace in the sea of \u200b\u200beternity!?
As our vita. Quanta strada ancora ci aspetta per arrivare (se arriveremo) al traguardo che ci attende. Sarà un traguardo? o un nuovo inizio? Sarà la fine di un dolore? o l’inizio di una nuova gioia? Quante domande! 
L’ultimo respiro di questo luogo meraviglioso lo raccolgo tutto nel cuore. Il Presidente si avvicina al cospetto della cascata Fauzofìli, il suo sguardo è avvinto da un dolore e allo stesso tempo da una gioia. In quello specchio d’acqua, alcuni anni fa, un pezzo di vita ci ha lasciato. In questo momento, in quella conca, tanti ricordi come pietre ammassate sul fondo risalgono leggeri come goccioline finissime. La gioia è dovuta alle carezze del fresh wind caused by this waterfall at the same time wonderful and terrifying. While res
aliamo Timpone along the slopes of the hob, the clamor of the river valley of darkness dies. In the heart of the fragrance of the evening, the tension of red meat, in the heartbeat, in an effort of tired muscles, the breath of my soul, I, unlike the water back to my source, the Source of Love. Copious spurts his kisses quench my roots and make me live in this world ... yet unexplored.
aliamo Timpone along the slopes of the hob, the clamor of the river valley of darkness dies. In the heart of the fragrance of the evening, the tension of red meat, in the heartbeat, in an effort of tired muscles, the breath of my soul, I, unlike the water back to my source, the Source of Love. Copious spurts his kisses quench my roots and make me live in this world ... yet unexplored.
