To be in love, my friends, is to findthe right name for life.It is to finally find the words needed to face death

to face death.It is to recover the hidden key that unlocks the prisonin which the soul is held captive.It is to rise up from the earth with a strength thatfrom above.It is to breathe the broad wind that breathes above the flesh.the flesh breathes.It is to contemplate, from the summit of the person,

the reason for the wounds.It is to notice in the eyes a true gazethat looks at us.It is to hear in a mouth one's own voice

deeply repeated.It is to surprise in a pair of hands that warmth of theperfect companionship.It is to suspect that, for ever, the loneliness

of our shadow is vanquished.To be in love, my friends, is to discover wherebody and soul meet.It is to perceive in the desert the crystalline voice of a river that calls us.a river that calls us.It is to see the sea from the tower where our childhood has been imprisoned.where our childhood has been imprisoned.It is to rest our sad eyes on a landscape of storks and bells

storks and bells.It is to occupy a territory where perfumes andperfumes and weapons coexist.

It is to give the law to every rose and at the same time

to receive it from its sword.

It is to confuse the feeling with a bonfire

that rises from the chest.

It is to rule the light of the fire and at the same time to be a ***** of the flame

to be a ***** of the flame.

It is to understand the pensive conversation of the

heart and distance.

It is to find the path that leads to the kingdom of the

music without rate.