In this immense Italianised villa, just little things, of course. A wandering leaf, a creaky door, a distant grunt. | |
In your grandfather's Italianised temple, as big as a world of a thousand souls, and where, instead, an emperor lived alone amid monochrome frescoes, coloured like snow and yellow Indian ink, you once were a child. | |
In this immense Italianised villa, just little things, of course. A wandering leaf, a creaky door, a distant grunt. | |
In your grandfather's Italianised temple, as big as a world of a thousand souls, and where, instead, an emperor lived alone amid monochrome frescoes, coloured like snow and yellow Indian ink, you once were a child. | |