We

Wein the month of

May my point of

view suddenly changed.

This time

I was more sure

that I would be

able to hold on,

hold onto it.

We repeatedly

left the same places

with more lung capacity,

and I stopped a number of

times to keep the path

in my mind.

It was necessary to remember

the steps that brought me

to those places,

memorising every footprint

in order to return there

in darker times.

That day

I was probably worrying too much

and this understandingbrought

about my first step.

That day - yellow rain on the bay.

That day the same rain through the veins.

The night of fires

came earlier than usualin

the dept of winter.

Gathered in the house,

the light dimwe talk in wispers,

waiting for some good news,

listenig from here.

Midnight comes,

the spirit pushes

And we push just as hard.

We run downhill - our shoulders

covered by long shadows.

But motorbikes are still

bicycles-the headlights lanterns.

The mountain is turning upside down.

That day - yellow rain on the slate.

Hot slate led the rain

through the veins.

E' visione insostenibile il

proprio riflesso e comunque

non si vede maiAllora cechi

ammirate la vostra proiezione

artefattaDa operatori imperiali

e pessimi architetti Come protesi

di membra castrateNoi dunque distrutti

ci vedremo ancora per accendere

un cero sotto il nuovo monumento

Trattino sepolcro e per oggi la

propria ombra resta comunque

la più fedele immagine di se.

And then we met impero.