adventure I sought to snatch the giants its secrets. Alone, leaning on the railing of the poop deck of the ship that I returned to Alexandria, I cried to see behind the lashes, as he walked away laughing my youth lived in Egypt. The Aegean Sea was calm. The chestnut forests of Mount Athos, clouds scratched, torn, scattered in the blue.
The dream of being a traveler is the hieroglyphic type, despite being carved on my soul, as deep as the source of the Nile, begins to fade to the harassment of sweet to do nothing.
My thoughts, as Erichthonius mares are capable of running on my past without stepping on the spikes that were born in the camps my adventures in search of the star Hesperus accompany me in the last years of my life.
But in view of Holy Hill, I ordered that I landed. "Come dreamer
" said a bearded monk.
"I came to retire for a while, if I may, in one of the twenty monasteries," I said humbly.
I was surprised: "You are
, scorpions who bring death to your memories, are hiding in the belly of despair. Took me under his right arm pushing along a path which amounted to a monastery in the rocks hanging inverosilmente overlooking the tranquil Aegean.
"Yes," I confessed, "I feel immersed in the blue, naked. The nights are long, I can not return to the past.
"Stay. Can not see the rainbow until the rain stops. The spell of the images of Alexandria and the Nile, you must not forget. This is your room, "she said kindly entrance to a monastic cell, the time you want to stay with us.
From this humble room, good-looking to the halls of the monasteries founded by the early Christians in the Egyptian desert by the fourth century, I write. Rest assured that I will not be afraid to put words into my memory.
Athos was one of the giants that defied the Greek gods. I hope that this mountain of the same name, help me defeat my existential questions.
As I said - Mother Theresa, "to keep a lamp burning we have to keep putting oil. SERI Belit
The dream of being a traveler is the hieroglyphic type, despite being carved on my soul, as deep as the source of the Nile, begins to fade to the harassment of sweet to do nothing.
My thoughts, as Erichthonius mares are capable of running on my past without stepping on the spikes that were born in the camps my adventures in search of the star Hesperus accompany me in the last years of my life.
But in view of Holy Hill, I ordered that I landed. "Come dreamer
" said a bearded monk.
"I came to retire for a while, if I may, in one of the twenty monasteries," I said humbly.
I was surprised: "You are
, scorpions who bring death to your memories, are hiding in the belly of despair. Took me under his right arm pushing along a path which amounted to a monastery in the rocks hanging inverosilmente overlooking the tranquil Aegean.
"Yes," I confessed, "I feel immersed in the blue, naked. The nights are long, I can not return to the past.
"Stay. Can not see the rainbow until the rain stops. The spell of the images of Alexandria and the Nile, you must not forget. This is your room, "she said kindly entrance to a monastic cell, the time you want to stay with us.
From this humble room, good-looking to the halls of the monasteries founded by the early Christians in the Egyptian desert by the fourth century, I write. Rest assured that I will not be afraid to put words into my memory.
Athos was one of the giants that defied the Greek gods. I hope that this mountain of the same name, help me defeat my existential questions.
As I said - Mother Theresa, "to keep a lamp burning we have to keep putting oil. SERI Belit
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