Archive by Author | rosaanna73



The sky cries over us, 
a tear flows through your cheek,
till it reachs your soft lips.
Why are you crying my love?
The Universe is crying with you.
Sadness is the new tenant of my heart,
with the consciousness that all I can offer to you
is just my love. Now and ever.

Rosa (2010)

Read my mind

I found this song very suggestive, I don’t know why it takes me far, somewhere out there. Can you read my mind? I wander if, looking around us, talking to people, we observe them enough. In most part of cases, we don’t care about the others, forgetting that we are also “others” for the other people. I know, this is a rhetoric phrase but it has great sense when you are alone or…just feel alone. So, give a look around and try to see something beyond the other’s eyes. Maybe, someone will feel you.

Closing Time

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

Have you ever throught about this?

You take your jacket after a hard day, and check if you have forgotten anything. It’s closing time. Windows lights turn off. And then,  another part of the day starts: it’s time to come back home. It’s time for friends or just time to spend with your cat or your family, if you are enough lucky to have one of your own.

It’s closing time: close your eyes and breath the fresh evening air.

Everything could happen!


To Lesbia – Gaio Valerio Catullo

This poem was written by a latin poet, Gaio Valerio Catullo about 2000 years ago. I’m moved by the strong, deep feeling arising from this poem. How burning passion! How suggestive images! I think this is one of the most beautiful poem ever written about love. My advice is to read also the latin version, if you can.


“The while we live, to love let’s give

Each hour, my winsome dearie!
Hence, churlish rage of icy age!
Of love we’ll ne’er grow weary.

Bright Phoebus dies, again to rise;
Returns life’s brief light never;
When once ‘tis gone, we slumber on
For ever and for ever.

Then, charmer mine, with help divine!
Give me a thousand kisses;
A hundred then, then hundred ten
Then other hundred blisses.


Lip thousand o’er, sip hundreds more

With panting ardour breathing;

Fill to the brim love’s cup, its rim

With rosy blossoms wreathing.

We’ll mix them then, lest to our ken

Should come our store of blisses,

Or envious wight should know, and blight

So many honey’d kisses.”

(J. Cranstoun, Edimburgo, 1867)

“The Club” is open

I wrote this short tale some time ago for Migue’s blog. I don’t know why, today I feel a bit melanconic and I thought to post it again, here in my blog. I hope you’ll like it, and for those who already read it, I hope you won’t mind to read it again.


Abbe Lane on Stage Doing Rhumba

It’s a Saturday night of a cold winter. Outside it’s rainy, the street lights light up the wet streets while some couples are going to enter in ”The Club”. The pale blue sign is already bright. A group of young guys are making din on the street. Two nice girls are talking and laughing before entering. Their boyfriends will come soon.
It’s the 1967. Tonight at the Club, Frank Sinatra is the special guest. Please, leave your overcoat at the wardrobe and take seat at your reserved table. The bar is open. They say you can taste the best “Manhattan” in town…

Money well spent! Frank did a great performance.
Who am I? My name is Nicola Manfredi, but everyone calls me “Nicky”. My club is the most popular in the city and the business are getting well. Many people of the “high class” are here tonight.I can see the mayor and his wife, the Senator Smith’s daughter with her boyfriend, Mr. Jenkins (the most important businessman in the city)and his lover…very good.
The club is crowded and the air smoky. Better to go and check how much liquors are at the bar.

Everything is ok tonight. The guys are working well and the girls are pouring drinks…

I need a cigarette. The moon is high in the sky and the city looks more beautiful at its light. But, tomorrow morning, the sunlight will show the same misery in the district…Well,it is time to enter. It is quite cold here and I need some whisky and…Daisy. Yes, that woman makes my blood boil in the veins!
Listen…the orchestra is playing her favourite song and she is just entered into the club. Look at her! She is like an angel…

Well it is almost 3 a.m.. The club is closed. Few people are still talking outside, in the street.

Well, baby, let’s go. I need you tonight.

Christmas has come!


Here we are again! It’s Christmas Time! And, as usual, I want to give you my best wishes of a Merry Christmas to all of you, to be spent with who you love the most.

Wherever you’ll be, whatever you’ll do please keep in your heart that  Light which warms up the special moments of our lives, that Light which represents a harbour in troubles. I wish you won’t put it out of your heart. This is the best wish I can give to you!



The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.

Intelligence, eloquence, strategy, diplomacy. In few words, human abilities. Each of us is a “singularity” in the universe as every person is unique for her assets and …difects. I strongly believe  that behind someone’s eyes there is a mistery, a complex world to be discovered. At the same time, it seems to me some people are sorrounded by an unpleasant, weird energy and I know that I can’t trust in who is in front of me… Someone call this “sensitivity” or “empathy”. Am I empathic? I really don’t know!

Abilities. Maybe the ability I admire the most is to play an instrument and write a melody. I’m basically unable to do it , even if (I admit) I haven’t tried seriuosly to learn how to play music. Nevertheless, I can say music is an important part of myself. Somedays, it seems to me to hear some music , while I’m smelling the countryside fresh air. I can hear music in my children’s laugh and in their eyes! Maybe our life is not perfect and full of problems, but there is always a reason to look forwad and fight. This is optimism… How wanderful invenction!


I strongly believe whatever is your ability,  you have to cherish it as it makes you the unique being you just are. :)


A sunny day

...And what if our life was just a dream, and us just pictures in someone else dream? ….


It was a sunny day. Sergio opened the door and the fresh air of the morning spread into his lungs and… into the kitchen. He smelled the air… it would have been another great day! For sure! He seated on his chair, in the shadow of his veranda and smelled the air. Again. And he felt fine. Relaxed.  The field, surrounding the small red cottage, was full of green grass and white flowers. He was sure nothing could ever disturb that new so promising  fantastic day!  He felt like he had never spent a such wonderful vacation in the last ten years. Then, he stood up and took his jogging shoes when his attention was caught up by a small pack, with a blue envelope and a narrow golden  ribbon. On it a card: “I have to inform you your vacations are ended. You are pleased to eat the candy on the table and you’ll be sweetly back home.” He looked at the colored candy hand-shaped on the table. For an instant, the remembrance of his parents and him in one of the suggestive, ancient market of the Central Europe of the 20th Century, rose to his memory. He kept on reading the card: ” I hope you enjoyed the services of the “More than reality, just dream! ltd.”

“I giorni” – The Days

Ludovico Einaudi is an Italian artist who composes a suggestive music. Evocative. Listen to the music, just close your eyes and let yourself go… “I giorni” makes me think how life flows quickly, like a river. Days chase one after and we have just to enjoy the travel, trying to do our best to realize our projects, our dreams. Don’t stop dreaming and don’t stop trying to achieve your goals as we have just one life. Enjoy the music and the Tagore’s poem. :)


Endless Time
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.

We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.

And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.

At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.

Rabindranath Tagore