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giovedì 25 dicembre 2008

Irish greeting

May the road rise up to meet you all
On each and every morn
May the rains fall soft upon your fields
Of waving yellow corn
May the wind be always at your back
And the sun's warmth on your face
And until we meet again my friends
God keep you in his grace

May the grains of sand upon the shore
Number all your days
May the love of God in darkest times
Enlighten all your ways
May the pipes forever be your soul
And the bodhran beat your heart
And the jigs and reels your ups and downs
Till life's ceile you depart

May the rest of life be the best of life
And no one do you wrong
May children's laughter be your music
Their growing be your song
And when the time says we must part
As time will always do
May God go with you all my friends
And this blessing stay with you

May you always have works, For your hand to do.
May your pockets hold, Always a coin or two.
May the sunshine on our windowpane,
May the sun be certain to follow each rain,
May the hand of a friend always be near your heart with gladness to cheer you.
Feichfidh mé ar ball tù.

sabato 13 dicembre 2008


Yes, I have a new haircut!
Photos as soon as possible (almost)


Thank you for greetings.
Special thank to those guys that organized me a surprise party.
Oldness progresses..

giovedì 11 dicembre 2008

giovedì 4 dicembre 2008

Set, Ready, Go!

I'm ready, tomorrow morning I'm going to start and go to Lourdes.
I need to take this break where I can think.
I'll pray for you.

martedì 2 dicembre 2008

In the Jungle

At last there were only Akela, Bagheera, and perhaps ten wolves that had taken Mowgli's part. Then something began to hurt Mowgli inside him, as he had never been hurt in his life before, and he caught his breath and sobbed, and the tears ran down his face.
'What is it? What is it?' he said. 'I do not wish to leave the Jungle, and I do not know what this is. Am I dying, Bagheera?'
'No, Little Brother. Those are only tears such as men use', said Bagheera. 'Now I know thou art a man, and a man's cub no longer. The Jungle is shut indeed to thee henceforward. Let them fall, Mowgli. They are only tears.'
So Mowgli sat and cried as though his heart would break; and he had never cried in all his life before.
"I have eaten good food," he said to himself. "I have drunk good water. Nor does my throat burn and grow small, as it did when I bit the blue-spotted root that Oo the Turtle said was clean food. But my stomach is heavy, and I have given very bad talk to Bagheera and others, people of the Jungle and my people. Now, too, I am hot and now I am cold, and now I am neither hot nor cold, but angry with that which I cannot see.
Huhu! It is time to make a running! To-night I will cross the ranges; yes, I will make a spring running to the Marshes of the North, and back again. I have hunted too easily too long. The Four shall come with me, for they grow as fat as white grubs."
I'm feeling betrayed and angry.
"I have surely eaten poison," he sighed at last. "Since I broke up the Council with the Red Flower--since I killed Shere Khan--none of the Pack could fling me aside. And these be only tail-wolves in the Pack, little hunters! My strength is gone from me, and presently I shall die. Oh, Mowgli, why dost thou not kill them both?"

The fight went on till one wolf ran away, and Mowgli was left alone on the torn and bloody ground, looking now at his knife, and now at his legs and arms, while the feeling of unhappiness he had never known before covered him as water covers a log.
I'm feeling as I have to puke to reject all of this feelings.
Mowgli's bad temper seemed to have boiled itself away. He lay back with his head on his arms, his eyes shut. "I do not know--nor do I care," he said sleepily. "Let us sleep, Bagheera. My stomach is heavy in me. Make me a rest for my head."
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