C'era una volta la città di Roma

Roma is a city made of thin air and gardens of stone.

Curtains of pine trees guard her immortality. People walk curiosly suspended on bridges of time. If you listen carefully you can hear the steps of the old christians, the cries of the defeated gladiators and the cling of the sparkling golden coins brought from all over the territories of the vast Empire. That together with the click of the japanese cameras and the reflected light of the omnipresent italian sunglasses .

But one cannot but feel small and overwhelmed; so these are the people who build the civilization and were eaten alive by it! the giants! the keepers of the most beautiful paintings hanged onto the walls, onto the ceilings, the guardians of the magical fountain who calls you back like a mermaid.Oh, do not listen!

For a while I felt like Cleopatra negotiating a treaty for my people. A spoiled princess walking on the carved stoned roads, without slaves or elephants but with the nose up smelling the blossomed trees. Proud and devoted, cynical and tender.

I met my friends and I offered them my smile. And they smiled back. And then the train running silently like a poisonous snake brought me back here. And I write.