Mario Nino Ferrara

.. And the memoirs wave in these tones, now slim now ringing; they tell us some women that he has known of his baby that the first communion does - of Mao Tse-tung, poet and guide of people - of the party in which so many men believe as human strength of renewal - and of the grass and old plants which he feels tied by a secret vibration in the joint effort to become aware creature.

Also the things held inanimate here reveal their hidden soul to flashes - and the colors in their weaving also tell us from the bright papers of the painter. And here, on the same plan of poetry, the great Chinese wall is glimpse - it flashes the totem of the ancient tribe - the stone appears just worked in which the primitive has glimpse, reflected by himself, the unique mystery that concludes around the things, all living ones both that they grow or stirs close to him, the sleep from which he just wakes up opening the eyes in this space and in this time still sleeps.

Equally, if it is the music, we put of the “Aida” or the scenography whom has known to make to relive the atmophere of the legend, here that the colors are that fable as it reflects in his mind. And here are the faces. The faces, those he has memory and those that it still feels nearby unknown, insinuate him suddenly in the story to ask from him life and vigor, they take form in the signs that the same paper suggests in its unequal plot and the color fixed or it falls through in accords just mentioned.