...Buscando un rostro de vida
entre la tierra y el cielo
como astronautas de la alma,
aviadores sin estrellas
en el espacio infinido
de un beso de tinta
[[...Cercando un volto di vita,
tra la terra e il cielo,
come astronauti dell'anima,
aviatori senza stella,
nello spazio infinito
di un bacio di inchiostro]]
AS HIMSELF
- the Rob's
- Roma, Italy
- He was born in a lazy tuesday.Just purple flowers around his cradle.Silence and purple flowers.The ancient Fathers whisper their secrets in his ears, before he went away, stolen by the wind, blessed by the moon."You are a travelling man" they said him.The roads of his life were just placed in the other side of our world, but when he became a man he felt the emptiness of the desert,and the acrid smell of the asphalt from the streets of the unknown. So he began writing poetry, singing against the night walls, searching for his home, taking his bag. He was a travelling man. And that's just a chosen destiny tale.
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