Homage to Cesare Abba - artwork of Christine Tarantino, Wendell - USA.
D u dead loved ones (from "Weekly Review", 1882 Cesare Abba). Heliodorus Mirrors and Athanasius Canata. Oh I want to go one evening in the Certosa di Bologna and I will try just to those who find the tomb cloisters of Heliodorus Mirrors, buried in there for fifteen years. I imagine that the grave is located in a small corner, I see the flowers that once a week is to bring it to the older sister of the dead, and if I let go of the fantasy, Joachim Murat here, down to its pedestal, steps down to be sounding for the dark lane: you put the head of the shadow of all the values \u200b\u200bburied in the Church, and lead them to honor a man who was brave. Mirrors knew the first time in prison, a small village in Val di Bormida, there between the Genoese and the Piedmont, one day in 1856. Someone had said he saw Vittorio Emanuele entrarsene alone in the college of the Pious and the curious flocked were suspended with the soul to see how he was leaving the king. After a sudden came out of the convent, a man of the right size, on the military aspect, like a really little to Victor he walked free, dressed with elegant simplicity, he had his mustache and hair grizzled, eyes that hurt away, fresh cheeks, no wrinkle. - That the king - said a doctor who was there with the crowd. - Of course it's chest like a king and even an emperor, but it is only a man who was applauded in all theaters of the world, from St. Petersburg to New-Yorck, and pulled on him and he did pull the gunshots for freedom. Do you know what is freedom? You in Piedmont for several years, but in the rest of Italy there is night, night, night, even in the city of the gentleman who is in Bologna, while it is in the states of E-Papa made a face that I was carved. Meanwhile Mirror had passed, and people would go to the facts of his discontented not have seen the King, and chatting on behalf of a stranger. They said he had returned recently from the United States who wanted to bring to a family of Millesimo certain letters of a friend left there, and that, since in that village there was always a good face and good heart for the guests, so he will was detained one week, two a month, and then he had no more left. In fact, wanting to stay in Italy, Mirror elsewhere in Piedmont could not stay. Anywhere else they would put their hands on him, and woe! He loved solitude, was a hunter, who threw, threw an egg and made a turnaround, he would split with the ball of his rifle: Millesimo Cosseria at the foot of the castle, the village hidden among woods and vineyards, inhabited by loving and easygoing, he seemed made for him. That day came as a prison, a walk of an hour and a half and had visited the college Piarist. The college flourished in those days filled with vigorous youth from all parts of Liguria and Piedmont. The brothers were all valuable people, and you taught letters, svegliatore great minds and hearts of the Father Athanasius Canata from Lerici, born artist, who became a monk, who lived across the desk and books vita.Aveva then just past the 40 years, kept all the fire of youth, which must have been a volcano, a man to paint with the sword as S. Paul. Left of the century, Italy would have seen someone die of motion from 31 onwards, or exile would made me feel like a trumpet of war ended in that school had come to teaching, educating, until in 1848 only to be exploded as (...)
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