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The arrival of the Beaches

William Bouguereau - After the Bath 1875

As on other occasions waiting for your arrival, yet no one could see the train and step by step on the pavement of the quay punctuated my expectation. Emotions of loneliness, lens, light is now off dispersed in the sunset. On that night there be the deep desire for you.

You know me no more reward, nor fresh water lake, nor the busy hum of the village, only to get your heart takes me.

In the saliva of the time the desire to enjoy your presence, like a mist, strong, insistent, evening enveloped me. Inside a steam tender anxiety gripped me, bored of life was simple, but already I was hungry and thirsty, your lips of hunger, thirst of your kisses.

Sete impure, but naive and immense, I caught sight of the soil of life, like a silent scream scratched my quiet, the silence and you vanished off the train already runs through the rows of our vineyard, of our love. You had big eyes, a shy and hidden sweetness, no part of me lost your pace, slowly abbozzasti a smile, wide and two thin lines dug your eyes, simple catturami was so instinctively. In that brief space between the lake and sky, I realized how I need you, there was something new girdling, I had no malice, nor ambition, only underwear and a tumultuous storm. I saw my horizon, I embraced her tenderly, your lips rested on mine, the warmth of your body already slipped through my veins, my eyes involuntarily died on soft forms of your hips.

My mind was naked, speechless, standing in front of you at the mercy of my love, I curled up in your arms, you taste the flavor was a lake, shore, we walked house until dawn to make sure that we would close in my dreams.

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body

W. Bouguereau - The two swimmers
1884

the shores

your body

my island

alive in the morning,

in the lap of the lake

every word is short,

between sips of lips

the way binds

the sense of the soul.

In the mind of the bodies

silence has harsh tones,

speechless eyes

the echo fades

in the window of dawn,

stride taste

mouths kissing,

water gods

the sober fingers

walk

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How lizard

E. Munch - Nude (1913)

In this month alone denied, the last lizard is refugee, so I'm wrapped in the apparent indifference, tormented inside, looking for a ray of light.

Messy, but honest, I do instinctively somersaults between thoughts, feel the clamor of the hour, I long for simplicity and wonder how I ended up in your sheets.

Pierced by persistent wind that brought me to you, avoiding the pools of the mind,

seek the smile of a lotus flower.

I look at the clear blue sky, smell the lake

still water and the silence speaks to me of you. I love your dwelling, Your sudden change, I love your faults, you love the imperfection,

love the wrong woman,

love your intelligence, love messed up your beauty,

your audacious dare.

I love the little things of our world, our love be with messy

scattered in the ocean of days, I love the desire that compels me to seek you,

love give me fire,

love you, when together, between the covers look the infinite.

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flatteries

In the circle of time

flattery of timid fog

on earth faded.

drown between strings of wit

now you naked in bed

the room empty, I spy

the tenderness of your body

salt in the flavor

burns the skin

scratches with slender fingers.

Fierce wind meat

vortex becomes bold

m'intrecci between hips

scream thirst

the night was the color

of your sin.

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Ludovico Einaudi

D time listening to this author and his play is a continuous research and development . Can like it or not his music, but you can not deny his artistic creativity, its refined simplicity of sound, notes, clear, clear. Music that has an invigorating, essential music of extreme inner intensity, or between waves of melancholy solitude, is a continuous search of the absolute, a point of silence is never banal and superficial. In a world where music consumption is sometimes not sound vulgar ideas or worse, his notes seem to me to cling firmly to a solid rope of a profound ethical and intellectual music. The use of pauses and silences, its almost torture notes, is a peculiarity of his music for the result of a creative and deeply lonely individual. I do not think you should always make comparisons with other pianists, classified at all costs, but to understand what the artist tells us in its entirety. The mix sounds from a consolidated basis contaminating it with hints of classical contemporary music, jazz and rock flavor, leading to a music of the future, never predictable, sometimes even by the sophisticated, refined touch.

Some of his albums:

- Echoes

- Room

- Waves

- Becoming

- Nightbook

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I feel the taste your thirst for truth Solitude

the fog thinned,

see the mountains at dusk,

heaven free

has stepped silk.

dried,

shrubs lend themselves

the death of the frost.

The land my sleeping

already proudly

leafless trees,

so your body

talking until dawn.

In the room there is little light

you are next, hidden

in your arms, I feel

the taste of your thirst.

Your eyes alive

call me and I

drown in your hips.

Stripped of all sense of shame,

we love innocent.

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I tried everywhere, nonstop, day and night, running up steep rocks, hot sands of the desert, in the light and in the czech dark unruly, give up without crossed deep lakes of hypocrisy, he climbed against the raging rivers, did not fear the evil eddies of life, stepped over sudden fog of lies, was not seduced by wealth without dignity, passed between ponds free of immorality, grabbed ropes of intellectual ethic now dissueta, often swam between waves of loneliness, fatigue did not stop him, he realized that life does not often give gifts, she brought him inconsolable wounds, wandered without giving up the hope for what he believed, until the wind within the first wrinkle in the eye and became a large wake of laughter, His voice softened, he took a flute in his hands, brought it to his lips, was an echo of the joy of life, you knew, you were the blonde goddess both sought the truth as he panted. The common man knew from his face, I had just found you and already fled elsewhere, he swept away the myth of Sisyphus, again I was looking for.

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Mists of Lake

Sitting at a table in a "Café", the mind cuts through extraneous light in the shadows of a street lamp, light gold embroidery in the humid evening. An avid music theory time with the soul of a predatory kind, Stan fate in me, to linger on the bridge there before, looking, still I'll wait.

I wanted to break free from the burdens and look you in the joy, harmony, horizon, where sky and earth become the thin edge of the world.

Here come,

with a light step and quickly, a habit that surrounds you, understated elegance, just kiss me and you sit down, autumn is already more sweet

and the veil of mist on your face is already mischievous smile.

Speak to us,

decided, look, this time the reason is naked,

gestures soft, firm voice, so you give me a scratch to his heart. At the corners of your face, two folds of shadow me explain, you talk about him, us and then even he does not know why, I'm listening, I know the rows of your explanation, but inside I've already torn to shreds .

between your open lips I kiss wasted,

reflection of your anger, your moody,

see a ball of trivial quarrels, lamps of passion, I almost feel jealous of your life with color, keep your storms,

savor the last drop of coffee, I take you by the hand and we leave the lake.

You have two bright eyes, two arrows on, and let us speak of our finding ourselves, we just plowed two plates at the mercy of predators.

When you are so I'll let you vent, I will follow,

seem break up,

nell'apogeo but, in my kernel know how to collect the kisses down the drain,

know how dawn, a few words to get them inside.

know you, your mind and your body,

your anger and your sweetness, I know how viverti, I hold you, caress your wall, walk at your side, feel the thrill and taste of your land, the smell of love I takes your breath away.

It 's the time of living together, are the nights, dawns,

worn white sheets, to see your Clothes left on the chair the night before, that give meaning to life.

love, now I know, we envy.

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When music is seeking the Hesper shines absolute

Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli (1920-1995)

sounded ...

music was his life, not playing around

and infrequently in public,

loved Mozart, Liszt, Chopin, Ravel and Debussy.

notes, clear, pure,

real arrows of music descended from Olympus.

His touch recognizable pure

mysterious in its depth and beauty,

the feel and you takes your breath in your throat.

waited, silent, charisma and then a slight rain

notes perfect, crystal-clear colors and shades,

strained interpretations are always looking for the absolute.

no virtuosity in his playing,

only a refined minimalist style,

was unique, unusual, unique.

His music

accompanied me and takes me

in the hours of essential and isolated interior.

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Zhang Ziyi

Lonely is the magpie

on branches stiff,

humid air

empty the countryside.

Calm beeches

well as oaks,

between silly shadows

fairies still live.

Shy is Lake

the barren ground

the moon cold

is rising,

Hesperus shines,

with the desire

throat, tender

you steal a kiss,

your body

tempts me, sitting

on the steps of heaven

I love your eyes

on.

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Among the flavors

Among the flavors of the earth

picked

kisses refused,

lost among the mists of prey

a gasp

had the campaign.

I eats you

between the plowed furrows,

like a kernel

me abandoned

into the fire of your eyes.

I looked

as if you were

the edge of the world

and your voice

such joy bodies

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In search of Ariadne's Thread Persephone

acquiesce the sun

beats moist air,

cloth of shadow

bare between the rows.

The elm leaves leaves

the last pride.

Fall, home,

is already on the hills,

fields

fade colors,

the wind tears at the light.

In search of Persephone

Demeter suffers

distraught fell

between men and land

has the flavor of silence.

you by my side

becoming look

in the distant horizon.

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Almost on the sidelines, away from the long waves of the lake, playing with the mind in the solitude of thought, the heartbeat gave me anxiety of purgatory. You were there, a little far to walk barefoot on the arena, misleading joy, you watched, dressed in white, with delicate hips, her hair wavy and free, an attractive body shape and then the sly and shy smile that I can not resist. Small steps were coming towards me. I understood immediately that this your "game light" would take me, your eyes dark and deep, calm silence as I spoke. How many times have we canceled and then found, mixed with screams nonsense right words, feelings trampled and consumed.

stubborn, we ran with my eyes closed, we were deaf to the poetry of life, float in the air when the window was fresh air ..

Getaway and returns, how many times in the maze of life, you were my breadcrumb trail.

Today wrinkles on the face ply different seasons of age, Theseus has made promises and then how many times I gave up on Naxos, the island of solitude and you playing with light wings with the distant horizon you've always been able to fly, to distinguish the rainbow by a colorful kite.

I envy your passion to love, this desire to be daring, you know to be free, anyone can own, stop, or dreams or illusions. You are the happy time of dawn a night of love, you live and free in you I find myself there. Modest, tender, bold and blasphemous, sin and innocence, what really hide in the drapery of your heart? You're the apple tart, is it you smell the blood of a woman, you're wild and refined flavors to life. When tenderness support with my head on your belly, listen to your silence, your fire slowly speaks to my desire, consumption and in those moments I know who you are, I recognize you.

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Among the rows of silent

Maggie Cheung

Among the rows of silent

hear a scream of silence

is the soul that dances

time in the woods.

The shadow of uneasiness

salt was almost

amber fog,

little in I see light

the shape of your body,

only step by step

games with the carousel of thoughts,

I t'osservo looking

the right words,

embroidering among the light

the colors of the discovery.

Whip the soul barefoot

until a smile

escapes me, the moon

to keep me company

and my night was the dawn

with your appearance in the heart.

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Amber Mist

Amber Mist

d 'useless pride.

of you, only

I love the contours,

poisonous kisses,

the embers of the hips.

Muto

with the soul barefoot

eventually

with the silence within,

I speak

waiting

those kisses that Catullus

asked Lesbia.

I love

timidly

between your breasts,

feel the slight weight

words never spoken.

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The misunderstanding

Sometimes I look at the lake

only

know to listen to me,

live on

and plains,

arriccio time

between sunrise and sunset.

We fate

lovers

with bated breath.

the hero Jason

the Princess Medea,

the eternal misunderstanding

between men and women.

The existence has never

itself.

Embrace the summer

of your body,

beach kisses

I wish the day

not go away.