raining today.
I look out the window of my room the light rain, calm, persistent, equal, coming down from heaven nebbioso.E 'as a hobby while in another compagnia.Guardo the dripping roof, plants, the flicker of leaves of lemon drop and get up like little fingers touching the invisible, look at the dirt in the courtyard Gorelli formed by discharges from showers, those who as a child seemed Gorelli rivers with their tributaries and on which I used to navigate a straw and shells noci.E compare my feelings at that time with my present feelings, and try to awaken in me, in all its immediacy, abstracting from my life exchanged, the sense of things forgotten naturali.Mi risovviene a day that it rained, the spring, and I was under the fig tree in the meadow sanpiero chewing wires sorrel; I could hear the gentle hum of the rain on the leaves that trembled, "felt" by the sprinkling of their warm and light as if I were a fresh throw them back every now and then a drop fell on my nose spraying the cheeks, the grass around glazed starry daisies , was beyond the hedge of laurel, from the fields, the smell of herbal juices, flowers, fresh love buds, and a cloud in the sky route, came wide diverging beam irradiated sun to the earth, as in a picture that was in the room della zia Clemenza,dove vedevo,affacciato ad una nuvola,il Signore Iddio che benediva un lungo palazzo a tre piani,il quale non era altro che l'arca di Noè galleggiante sui flutti.
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