were ready to receive them, those Italian boys who would come into the cold December Russian .. they would be greeted with warmth, not to let them out .. but the least fifteen degrees one day and 'they are informed that the university does not have more facts to reach the university would no longer .. renewed the contract with their teachers .. their university no longer had any money. their future was slowly fading away .. it was slowly crumbling beneath their feet ..
already would have been a pain not being able to sleep in their real homes .. eh .. of course .. they came from Italy, could make them live in forty square feet with three other people and not without a bath .. .. you could have accepted it, reluctantly, to let them sleep in the rooms of their ancient and beautiful university .. but now .. they could not have them .. and they would become their life .. Italy .. .. the artists they were taught that Italy was, is and will be home artists art .. .. but now? everything .. is not lost .. they would never have met these young children the art of art ..? .. were these sons of art, aware of what awaited them outside the sliding doors monotone and international airport? .. knew? .. with that presented themselves to face that reality? .. would continue to laugh? .. and when they stopped? .. there is death ..
is death .. the death of the dreams of the future ..
What can university students in front of a tragedy? .. Go home .. in the forty square meters .. to pray facing toward the red corner .. and that the God who has betrayed them repent ..
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