Window on the village

Windows are the eyes of our houses, life flows beyond the glass, the color of the sky changes the sun enters, the air, the noises, we see who passes and who arrives, we meditate waiting for the moon … The window The red rose slowly slips, for an interminable instant it is air, then he rocks on his body, dyeing it with its bright color. The hand that left it is now resting on the glass, streaked by rain and gaze, under the forehead resting the tears, of love that cannot exist. Short excerpt of poetry by De Bernardi Pompeo
Altidona Window on the village Photo and Copyright By Baldassarri Giuseppe Travel is the traveler in Italy

Service Adv | Revenue | Security Police Contact | Privacy Police | Terms of Service | Info About | Mission
Copyright All rights reserved By Travel is the traveler in Italy
Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) is Licensed
Author Baldassarri Giuseppe Visual Storytelling profile

Stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to be notified when I send new updates.

Follow Us | Instagram | | Pinterest | | | Followers
Web Analytics
Write a review here and post a photo by signing up here.
Share our passion by contributing with a donation here.
Do you have a comment, a question or a suggestion? just do it.
Powered by

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.