President Washington Radio

.. look how beautiful those memories in life .. it's true you cried more .. but .. felt emotions were there, he touched .. now what?. . you go to the search, desperate, any hole in the street .. trying and often is the wrong one ..

then was something else .. the houses in the streets .. dusty scents .. .. .. the grass the trees .. the peeling walls of the church .. the cows grazing on mountain and country inns that gathered after work at night .. even when the mills stopped and the men returned from the forge with their oil lamps aimed primarily to illuminate the cobbled street ..

.. and women who spent their days gently between the fire and the barn .. and in a circle with the children around the animals to enjoy their heat during the winter, told stories as if spinning the wool .. Decameron a layman ..

and there on the horns .. the man of the highest mountain, which quietly went down to beg for what they would have done without, to take full advantage of that one life that had been given .. it was because of what he had fled there in a rock house: he wanted to break away from that world, but not because it feared or despised him .. he just was not that he had found the world .. its size ..

.. and the parson, who slowly moved the pen from the inkwell to the sheet and made a drop, thus ruining a boring job that he had stolen a good half hour ..

.. but now what is left of all this? .. Maybe .. but nothing replaces the memory where the human intellect has sinned, or perhaps where the capital and greed have triumphed .. but without the capital that would state? .. for sure we would still be close to that country a bad memory ..? .. the story continues and has left his mark here .. every single mutation social, political, economic and cultural life here has raised their fruits .. ideal mirror of the country, "small" sub-village of bourgeois culture, abandoned by your high offspring, forced by its strange time, and left to your children low, many souls for nothing culture, unaware of your history, exploiting your land ...