<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382</id><updated>2011-12-31T14:05:57.187+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensieri di maestro Geko's Space</title><subtitle type='html'>spazio per condividere, riflettere,...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>51</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-3876745765169685689</id><published>2011-12-31T14:05:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T14:05:57.194+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensieri di fine anno (2)</title><content type='html'>Qualche volta il destino assomiglia a una tempesta di sabbia che muta incessantemente la direzione del percorso. Per evitarlo cambi l'andatura. E il vento cambia andatura, per seguirti meglio. Tu allora cambi di nuovo, e subito di nuovo il vento cambia per adattarsi al tuo passo. Questo si ripete infinite volte, come una danza sinistra con il dio della morte prima dell'alba. Perché quel vento non è qualcosa che è arrivato da lontano, indipendente da te. È qualcosa che hai dentro. Quel vento sei tu. Perciò l'unica cosa che puoi fare è entrarci, in quel vento, camminando dritto, e chiudendo forte gli occhi per non far entrare la sabbia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Haruki Murakami&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-3876745765169685689?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/3876745765169685689/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/pensieri-di-fine-anno-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3876745765169685689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3876745765169685689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/pensieri-di-fine-anno-2.html' title='Pensieri di fine anno (2)'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-6893078707198081721</id><published>2011-12-31T14:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T14:04:22.940+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensieri di fine anno (1)</title><content type='html'>Bevo a chi è di turno, in treno, in ospedale,&lt;br /&gt;cucina, albergo, radio, fonderia,&lt;br /&gt;in mare, su un aereo, in autostrada,&lt;br /&gt;a chi scavalca questa notte senza un saluto,&lt;br /&gt;bevo alla luna prossima, alla ragazza incinta,&lt;br /&gt;... a chi fa una promessa, a chi l'ha mantenuta,&lt;br /&gt;a chi ha pagato il conto, a chi lo sta pagando,&lt;br /&gt;a chi non è invitato in nessun posto,&lt;br /&gt;allo straniero che impara l'italiano,&lt;br /&gt;a chi studia la musica, a chi sa ballare il tango,&lt;br /&gt;a chi si è alzato per cedere il posto,&lt;br /&gt;a chi non si può alzare, a chi arrossisce,&lt;br /&gt;a chi legge Dickens, a chi piange al cinema,&lt;br /&gt;a chi protegge i boschi, a chi spegne un incendio,&lt;br /&gt;a chi ha perduto tutto e ricomincia,&lt;br /&gt;all'astemio che fa uno sforzo di condivisione,&lt;br /&gt;a chi è nessuno per la persona amata,&lt;br /&gt;a chi subisce scherzi e per reazione un giorno sarà eroe,&lt;br /&gt;a chi scorda l'offesa, a chi sorride in fotografia,&lt;br /&gt;a chi va a piedi, a chi sa andare scalzo,&lt;br /&gt;a chi restituisce da quello che ha avuto,&lt;br /&gt;a chi non capisce le barzellette,&lt;br /&gt;all'ultimo insulto che sia l'ultimo,&lt;br /&gt;ai pareggi, alle ics della schedina,&lt;br /&gt;a chi fa un passo avanti e così disfa la riga,&lt;br /&gt;a chi vuol farlo e poi non ce la fa,&lt;br /&gt;infine bevo a chi ha diritto a un brindisi stasera&lt;br /&gt;e tra questi non ha trovato il suo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erri De Luca&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-6893078707198081721?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/6893078707198081721/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/pensieri-di-fine-anno-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6893078707198081721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6893078707198081721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/pensieri-di-fine-anno-1.html' title='Pensieri di fine anno (1)'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-3408705809473413065</id><published>2011-12-30T20:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T20:27:21.563+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Le cose che (dovrei) imparare dalla vita</title><content type='html'>Ecco alcune delle cose che ho imparato nella vita: &lt;br /&gt;Che non importa quanto sia buona una persona, ogni tanto ti ferirà. E per questo, bisognerà che tu la perdoni. &lt;br /&gt;Che ci vogliono anni per costruire la fiducia e solo pochi secondi per distruggerla. &lt;br /&gt;Che non dobbiamo cambiare amici, se comprendiamo che gli amici cambiano. &lt;br /&gt;Che le circostanze e l'ambiente hanno influenza su di noi, ma noi siamo responsabili di noi stessi. &lt;br /&gt;Che, o sarai tu a controllare i tuoi atti, o essi controlleranno te. &lt;br /&gt;Ho imparato che gli eroi sono persone che hanno fatto ciò che era necessario fare, affrontandone le conseguenze. &lt;br /&gt;Che la pazienza richiede molta pratica. &lt;br /&gt;Che ci sono persone che ci amano, ma che semplicemente non sanno come dimostrarlo. &lt;br /&gt;Che a volte, la persona che tu pensi ti sferrerà il colpo mortale quando cadrai, è invece una di quelle poche che ti aiuteranno a rialzarti &lt;br /&gt;Che solo perché qualcuno non ti ama come tu vorresti, non significa che non ti ami con tutto se stesso. &lt;br /&gt;Che non si deve mai dire a un bambino che i sogni sono sciocchezze: sarebbe una tragedia se lo credesse. &lt;br /&gt;Che non sempre è sufficiente essere perdonato da qualcuno. Nella maggior parte dei casi sei tu a dover perdonare te stesso. &lt;br /&gt;Che non importa in quanti pezzi il tuo cuore si è spezzato; il mondo non si ferma, aspettando che tu lo ripari. &lt;br /&gt;Forse Dio vuole che incontriamo un po' di gente sbagliata prima di incontrare quella giusta, così quando finalmente la incontriamo, sapremo come essere riconoscenti per quel regalo. &lt;br /&gt;Quando la porta della felicità si chiude, un'altra si apre, ma tante volte guardiamo così a lungo a quella chiusa, che non vediamo quella che è stata aperta per noi. &lt;br /&gt;La miglior specie d'amico è quel tipo con cui puoi stare seduto in un portico e camminarci insieme, senza dire una parola, e quando vai via senti come se è stata la miglior conversazione mai avuta. &lt;br /&gt;È vero che non conosciamo ciò che abbiamo prima di perderlo, ma è anche vero che non sappiamo ciò che ci è mancato prima che arrivi. &lt;br /&gt;Ci vuole solo un minuto per offendere qualcuno, un'ora per piacergli, e un giorno per amarlo, ma ci vuole una vita per dimenticarlo. &lt;br /&gt;Non cercare le apparenze; possono ingannare. &lt;br /&gt;Non cercare la salute, anche quella può affievolirsi. &lt;br /&gt;Cerca qualcuno che ti faccia sorridere perché ci vuole solo un sorriso per far sembrare brillante una giornataccia. &lt;br /&gt;Trova quello che fa sorridere il tuo cuore. &lt;br /&gt;Ci sono momenti nella vita in cui qualcuno ti manca così tanto che vorresti proprio tirarlo fuori dai tuoi sogni per abbracciarlo davvero! &lt;br /&gt;Sogna ciò che ti va; vai dove vuoi; sii ciò che vuoi essere, perché hai solo una vita e una possibilità di fare le cose che vuoi fare. &lt;br /&gt;Puoi avere abbastanza felicità da renderti dolce, difficoltà a sufficienza da renderti forte, dolore abbastanza da renderti umano, speranza sufficiente a renderti felice. &lt;br /&gt;Mettiti sempre nei panni degli altri. Se ti senti stretto, probabilmente anche loro si sentono così. &lt;br /&gt;Le più felici delle persone, non necessariamente hanno il meglio di ogni cosa; soltanto traggono il meglio da ogni cosa che capita sul loro cammino. &lt;br /&gt;La felicità è ingannevole per quelli che piangono, quelli che fanno male, quelli che hanno provato, solo così possono apprezzare l'importanza delle persone che hanno toccato le loro vite. &lt;br /&gt;L'amore comincia con un sorriso, cresce con un bacio e finisce con un the. &lt;br /&gt;Il miglior futuro è basato sul passato dimenticato, non puoi andare bene nella vita prima di lasciare andare i tuoi fallimenti passati e tuoi dolori. &lt;br /&gt;Quando sei nato, stavi piangendo e tutti intorno a te sorridevano. Vivi la tua vita in modo che quando morirai, tu sia l'unico che sorride e ognuno intorno a te pianga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Paulo Coelho&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-3408705809473413065?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/3408705809473413065/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/le-cose-che-dovrei-imparare-dalla-vita.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3408705809473413065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3408705809473413065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/le-cose-che-dovrei-imparare-dalla-vita.html' title='Le cose che (dovrei) imparare dalla vita'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-5392102676394466795</id><published>2011-12-30T20:14:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T20:15:19.028+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ora e Allora</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="400" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Rfu3pRgGI9M" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-5392102676394466795?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/5392102676394466795/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/ora-e-allora.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5392102676394466795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5392102676394466795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/12/ora-e-allora.html' title='Ora e Allora'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Rfu3pRgGI9M/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-2366480497026541222</id><published>2011-08-20T17:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T17:08:35.524+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone like You</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="400" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qemWRToNYJY?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-2366480497026541222?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/2366480497026541222/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/someone-like-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2366480497026541222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2366480497026541222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/someone-like-you.html' title='Someone like You'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/qemWRToNYJY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-7435146505194522191</id><published>2011-08-19T10:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T10:59:55.501+02:00</updated><title type='text'>La voce a te dovuta</title><content type='html'>"Cominciano ad accendersi&lt;br /&gt;le domande alla notte.&lt;br /&gt;Ve ne sono distanti, quiete,&lt;br /&gt;immense, come astri:&lt;br /&gt;chiedono da lassù&lt;br /&gt;...sempre&lt;br /&gt;la stessa cosa: come sei.&lt;br /&gt;Altre, fugaci e minute,&lt;br /&gt;vorrebbero sapere cose&lt;br /&gt;lievi di te e precise:&lt;br /&gt;misura&lt;br /&gt;delle tue scarpe&lt;br /&gt;nome&lt;br /&gt;dell’angolo del mondo&lt;br /&gt;dove potresti aspettarmi.&lt;br /&gt;Tu non le puoi vedere,&lt;br /&gt;ma il tuo sonno&lt;br /&gt;è circondato tutto&lt;br /&gt;dalle mie domande."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;(Pedro Salinas)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-7435146505194522191?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/7435146505194522191/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/la-voce-te-dovuta.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7435146505194522191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7435146505194522191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/la-voce-te-dovuta.html' title='La voce a te dovuta'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-7760222911737054578</id><published>2011-08-13T10:08:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T10:09:25.908+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Odio Gli Indifferenti di Antonio Gramsci [HD]</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FmfTQTHCrrw?fs=1" width="400"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-7760222911737054578?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/7760222911737054578/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/odio-gli-indifferenti-di-antonio.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7760222911737054578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7760222911737054578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/odio-gli-indifferenti-di-antonio.html' title='Odio Gli Indifferenti di Antonio Gramsci [HD]'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/FmfTQTHCrrw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-5556944392824529708</id><published>2011-08-12T10:41:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T10:42:57.161+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I turn the music up, I got my records on...</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="280" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fyMhvkC3A84?rel=0" width="400"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-5556944392824529708?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/5556944392824529708/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5556944392824529708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5556944392824529708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title='I turn the music up, I got my records on...'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/fyMhvkC3A84/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-8771154806886766702</id><published>2011-08-12T10:37:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T10:37:34.399+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Every teardrop is a waterfall</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="testo"&gt;I turn the music up, I got my records on &lt;br /&gt;I shut the world outside until the lights come on &lt;br /&gt;Maybe the streets alight, maybe the trees are gone &lt;br /&gt;I feel my heart start beating to my favourite song &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the kids they dance, all the kids all night &lt;br /&gt;Until Monday morning feels another life &lt;br /&gt;I turn the music up &lt;br /&gt;I’m on a roll this time &lt;br /&gt;And heaven is in sight &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uh... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn the music up, I got my records on &lt;br /&gt;From underneath the rubble sing a rebel song &lt;br /&gt;Don’t want to see another generation drop &lt;br /&gt;I’d rather be a comma than a full stop &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I’m in the black, maybe I’m on my knees &lt;br /&gt;Maybe I’m in the gap batween the two trapezes &lt;br /&gt;But my heart is beating and my pulses start &lt;br /&gt;Cathedrals in my heart &lt;br /&gt;as we saw oh this light  &lt;br /&gt;I swear you, emerge blinking into &lt;br /&gt;To tell me it’s alright &lt;br /&gt;As we soar walls,  &lt;br /&gt;every siren is a symphony &lt;br /&gt;And every tear’s a waterfall &lt;br /&gt;Is a waterfall &lt;br /&gt;Oh &lt;br /&gt;Is a waterfall &lt;br /&gt;Oh oh oh &lt;br /&gt;Is a is a waterfall &lt;br /&gt;Every tear &lt;br /&gt;Is a waterfall &lt;br /&gt;Oh oh oh &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can hurt, hurt me bad &lt;br /&gt;But still I’ll raise the flag &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh &lt;br /&gt;It was a wa wa wa wa wa-a-terfall &lt;br /&gt;A wa wa wa wa wa-aterfall &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every tear&amp;nbsp; Every tear &lt;br /&gt;Every teardrop is a waterfall &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every tear&amp;nbsp; Every tear &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every teardrop is a waterfall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-8771154806886766702?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/8771154806886766702/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-turn-music-up-i-got-my-records-on-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/8771154806886766702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/8771154806886766702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-turn-music-up-i-got-my-records-on-i.html' title='Every teardrop is a waterfall'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-7123655672716565678</id><published>2011-07-03T20:51:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T20:56:59.297+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ready 2 go</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4quKd2_5PAQ" width="400"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-7123655672716565678?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/7123655672716565678/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/07/ready-2-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7123655672716565678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7123655672716565678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2011/07/ready-2-go.html' title='ready 2 go'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/4quKd2_5PAQ/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-524353550169442917</id><published>2010-11-06T21:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T21:08:09.434+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A thousand miles</title><content type='html'>Making my way downtown&lt;br /&gt;walking fast&lt;br /&gt;faces pass&lt;br /&gt;and I'm home bound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring blankly ahead&lt;br /&gt;just making my way&lt;br /&gt;making a way&lt;br /&gt;through the crowd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I need you&lt;br /&gt;and I miss you&lt;br /&gt;and now I wonder....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could fall&lt;br /&gt;into the sky...&lt;br /&gt;Do you think time&lt;br /&gt;Would pass me by&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you know I'd walk&lt;br /&gt;A thousand miles&lt;br /&gt;If I could &lt;br /&gt;just see you...&lt;br /&gt;Tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always times like these&lt;br /&gt;When I think of you&lt;br /&gt;and I wonder&lt;br /&gt;If you ever &lt;br /&gt;think of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause everything's so wrong&lt;br /&gt;and I don't belong&lt;br /&gt;Living in your&lt;br /&gt;precious memories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I need you&lt;br /&gt;And I miss you&lt;br /&gt;and now I wonder....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could fall&lt;br /&gt;into the sky&lt;br /&gt;Do you think time&lt;br /&gt;Would pass me by&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you know I'd walk&lt;br /&gt;A thousand miles&lt;br /&gt;If I could &lt;br /&gt;just see you&lt;br /&gt;Tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I, I&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to let you know&lt;br /&gt;I, I&lt;br /&gt;Drown in your memory&lt;br /&gt;I, I&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to let this go&lt;br /&gt;I, I&lt;br /&gt;Don't....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making my way downtown&lt;br /&gt;walking fast&lt;br /&gt;Faces pass&lt;br /&gt;and I'm home bound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring blankly ahead&lt;br /&gt;Just making my way&lt;br /&gt;Making a way&lt;br /&gt;Through the crowd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still need you&lt;br /&gt;and I still miss you&lt;br /&gt;and now I wonder....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could fall&lt;br /&gt;into the sky&lt;br /&gt;Do you think time&lt;br /&gt;Would pass us by&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you know I'd walk&lt;br /&gt;A thousand miles&lt;br /&gt;If I could &lt;br /&gt;just see you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could fall&lt;br /&gt;into the sky&lt;br /&gt;Do you think time&lt;br /&gt;Would pass me by&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you know I'd walk&lt;br /&gt;A thousand miles&lt;br /&gt;If I could &lt;br /&gt;just see you&lt;br /&gt;If I could &lt;br /&gt;just hold you&lt;br /&gt;Tonight.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vanessa Carlton &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-524353550169442917?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/524353550169442917/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/11/thousand-miles.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/524353550169442917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/524353550169442917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/11/thousand-miles.html' title='A thousand miles'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1544130834894715942</id><published>2010-10-15T21:07:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T21:07:13.690+02:00</updated><title type='text'>My way</title><content type='html'>"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 class="menu"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: 400;"&gt;And now, the        end is near&lt;br /&gt;And so I face the final curtain&lt;br /&gt;My friend, I'll say it clear&lt;br /&gt;I'll state my case, of which I'm certain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lived a life that's full&lt;br /&gt;I've traveled each and ev'ry highway&lt;br /&gt;But more, much more than this&lt;br /&gt;I did it my way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regrets, I've had a few&lt;br /&gt;But then again, too few to mention&lt;br /&gt;I did what I had to do&lt;br /&gt;And saw it through without exemption&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I planned each charted course&lt;br /&gt;Each careful step along the byway&lt;br /&gt;But more, much more than this&lt;br /&gt;I did it my way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew&lt;br /&gt;When I bit off more than I could chew&lt;br /&gt;But through it all, when there was doubt&lt;br /&gt;I ate it up and spit it out&lt;br /&gt;I faced it all and I stood tall&lt;br /&gt;And did it my way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've loved, I've laughed and cried&lt;br /&gt;I've had my fill; my share of losing&lt;br /&gt;And now, as tears subside&lt;br /&gt;I find it all so amusing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To think I did all that&lt;br /&gt;And may I say, not in a shy way&lt;br /&gt;"No, oh no not me&lt;br /&gt;I did it my way"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For what is a man, what has he got?&lt;br /&gt;If not himself, then he has naught&lt;br /&gt;To say the things he truly feels&lt;br /&gt;And not the words of one who kneels&lt;br /&gt;The record shows I took the blows&lt;br /&gt;And did it my way!"....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1544130834894715942?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1544130834894715942/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1544130834894715942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1544130834894715942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-way.html' title='My way'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-5319494319216409544</id><published>2010-10-11T17:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T17:03:16.976+02:00</updated><title type='text'>This ain't goodbye</title><content type='html'>You and I were friends from outer space &lt;br /&gt;afraid to let go &lt;br /&gt;The only 2 who understood this place &lt;br /&gt;and s far as we know ...&lt;br /&gt;We were way before our time &lt;br /&gt;as bold as we were blind &lt;br /&gt;Just another perfect mistake &lt;br /&gt;another bridge to take &lt;br /&gt;On the way of letting go, &lt;br /&gt;this ain't goodbye .&lt;br /&gt;It is just the way love goes, &lt;br /&gt;but where's that woman now, to keep away the cold &lt;br /&gt;This ain togood bye !&lt;br /&gt;It's Not where our story ends ,&lt;br /&gt;but I know you can't be mine, not the way you always been &lt;br /&gt;as long as we've got time .&lt;br /&gt;Then this ain't goodbye !!&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, this ain't goodbye !!!&lt;br /&gt;We were stars up in the sunlit sky &lt;br /&gt;no one else could see &lt;br /&gt;neither of else ever thought to ask why ..&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't meant to be &lt;br /&gt;maybe we were way too high &lt;br /&gt;to ever understand .&lt;br /&gt;Baby we were victims of all the foolish plans .&lt;br /&gt;We began to divide &lt;br /&gt;but this ain't goodbye &lt;br /&gt;This is just the way love goes &lt;br /&gt;but where's the woman now to keep way the cold, oh no &lt;br /&gt;This iain't goodbye !!&lt;br /&gt;It's not where our story ends ,&lt;br /&gt;but I know you cant be mine &lt;br /&gt;Just like the way you've always been &lt;br /&gt;as long as we got time, &lt;br /&gt;This ain't good bye, &lt;br /&gt;Oh no, this ain't good bye, oh oh, oh no this ain't goodbye &lt;br /&gt;This ain't goodbye !&lt;br /&gt;You and I were friends from outer space &lt;br /&gt;afraid to let go .&lt;br /&gt;The only two who understood this place &lt;br /&gt;and as far as we know &lt;br /&gt;This ain't goodbye !!&lt;br /&gt;Oh no this ain't goodbye !!&lt;br /&gt;This ain't goodbye, oh no this ain't goodbye ,&lt;br /&gt;This ain't goodbye !!!&lt;br /&gt;It's just the way love goes &lt;br /&gt;But where's that woman now, to keep away the cold, oh no, &lt;br /&gt;This ain't goodbye &lt;br /&gt;This isn't where the story ends &lt;br /&gt;but I know you cant be mine .&lt;br /&gt;Like the way you've always been. &lt;br /&gt;This ain't goodbye ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Train&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-5319494319216409544?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/5319494319216409544/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-aint-goodbye.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5319494319216409544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5319494319216409544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-aint-goodbye.html' title='This ain&apos;t goodbye'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-5865853893868599409</id><published>2010-09-30T20:49:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T20:49:13.806+02:00</updated><title type='text'>dal web...</title><content type='html'>.. Un giorno﻿ l'amore chiese all'amicizia: &lt;br /&gt;" Perché esisti se ci sono già io??? ".&lt;br /&gt;E l'amicizia rispose:&lt;br /&gt;" Per portare un sorriso dove tu lasci una lacrima! "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-5865853893868599409?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/5865853893868599409/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/09/dal-web.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5865853893868599409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5865853893868599409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/09/dal-web.html' title='dal web...'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-6905079791458319309</id><published>2010-08-12T20:22:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T20:22:53.383+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="testo"&gt;Lascerò tutti i miei figli ad un futuro incerto, &lt;br /&gt;mangerò composta a tavola con mani giunte, &lt;br /&gt;piangerò con discrezione senza dar nell’occhio, &lt;br /&gt;dormirò come se fossi morta, I say, fuck you... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C’era una volta una promessa, una carezza, &lt;br /&gt;un bilocale come una fortezza, chiamarti la mia principessa, &lt;br /&gt;c’era la fretta, del taxi tuo che aspetta ma non vuoi andare &lt;br /&gt;c’era una foto di noi al mare, c’era un vuoto che puoi colmare, &lt;br /&gt;gelati e film da noleggiare, c’era da togliersi i vestiti e poi volare, &lt;br /&gt;c’era la gelosia e tu che te ne andavi, e correre da te &lt;br /&gt;e quando per magia mi chiamavi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregherò affinché tu possa avere tutto ciò che vuoi, &lt;br /&gt;soldi, macchine, e una donna al giorno, &lt;br /&gt;e la possibilità di avere tutto e subito &lt;br /&gt;senza aver bisogno di essere mai perdonato. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say fuck you, you will never know, &lt;br /&gt;what is turning in my mind fuck you, so you better watch out, &lt;br /&gt;so you better watch out, out... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C’erano cene mondane, stare composto, &lt;br /&gt;e il mio bere e fumare che volevi cambiare a ogni costo, &lt;br /&gt;c’erano scene di panico senza motivo &lt;br /&gt;ed il tuo essere isterica per il modo in cui vivo, &lt;br /&gt;e farmi stare simpatica la tua amica più idiota, &lt;br /&gt;la filosofia del tuo maestro di yoga, &lt;br /&gt;poi c’era l’emicrania e i sospetti silenzi, &lt;br /&gt;io al mare tu in montagna, &lt;br /&gt;c’era parlare lingue differenti &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asseconderò ogni tua perversa inclinazione, &lt;br /&gt;proverò ad interpretare ogni tuo malumore, &lt;br /&gt;sarò pronta accanto a te quando verrà il momento, &lt;br /&gt;quando il tempo ti restituirà quello che hai dato &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say fuck you, you will never know, &lt;br /&gt;what is turning in my mind fuck you, so you better watch out out &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma adesso metti bene a fuoco, mi vedi, &lt;br /&gt;sono caduto in piedi, ci credi, - non ti cercherò – &lt;br /&gt;ho tolto le foto dalle pareti e nei miei sogni segreti &lt;br /&gt;- non ti vedo – e a dormire ci riesco, esco quando mi va &lt;br /&gt;bevo, abbondanti sorsate di libertà, &lt;br /&gt;faccio assordanti risate con gli amici al bar, &lt;br /&gt;su come ero spento quando perdevo tempo, stando con quella là &lt;br /&gt;- sfumi nella memoria, non ti penso mai – e ogni mentire, ogni fare soffrire &lt;br /&gt;ci insegna la storia – pagherai – e so che a ogni risveglio – non ci sarai – &lt;br /&gt;e so che tanto di meglio – non troverai – mai, ho due parole e una bombola spray &lt;br /&gt;fuck you – per quando tornerai &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say fuck you, you will never know, &lt;br /&gt;what is turning in my mind fuck you, so you better watch out, so you better watch out, out.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;h1 id="watch-headline-title"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="" dir="ltr" id="eow-title" title="Articolo 31 feat Paola Turci - Fuck You"&gt;Articolo 31 feat Paola Turci - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-6905079791458319309?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/6905079791458319309/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/08/fuck-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6905079791458319309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6905079791458319309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/08/fuck-you.html' title='Fuck You'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-4128181202887501644</id><published>2010-07-20T12:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T12:17:24.710+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Where do you think you're going?</title><content type='html'>Where do you think you're going?&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know it's dark outside?&lt;br /&gt;Where do you think you're going?&lt;br /&gt;Don't you care about my pride?&lt;br /&gt;Where do you think you're going?&lt;br /&gt;I think that you don't know&lt;br /&gt;You got no way of knowing&lt;br /&gt;There's really no place you can go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand your changes&lt;br /&gt;Long before you reach the door&lt;br /&gt;I know where you think you're going you&lt;br /&gt;I know what you came here for&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm sick of joking&lt;br /&gt;You know I like you to be free&lt;br /&gt;Where do you think you're going?&lt;br /&gt;I think you better go with me girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say there is no reason&lt;br /&gt;But you still find cause to doubt me&lt;br /&gt;If you ain't with me girl&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna be without me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you think you're going?&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know it's dark outside?&lt;br /&gt;Where do you think you're going?&lt;br /&gt;Don't you care about my pride?&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm sick of joking&lt;br /&gt;You know I like you to be free&lt;br /&gt;So where do you think you're going?&lt;br /&gt;I think you better go with me girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dire Straits &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-4128181202887501644?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/4128181202887501644/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/07/where-do-you-think-youre-going.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4128181202887501644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4128181202887501644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/07/where-do-you-think-youre-going.html' title='Where do you think you&apos;re going?'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-4953085593921548260</id><published>2010-07-18T21:03:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T21:03:56.236+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Geko</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/TENQCiIWa_I/AAAAAAAAAGU/D7xMSMnbUI4/s1600/11072010161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/TENQCiIWa_I/AAAAAAAAAGU/D7xMSMnbUI4/s320/11072010161.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-4953085593921548260?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/4953085593921548260/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/07/geko.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4953085593921548260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4953085593921548260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/07/geko.html' title='Geko'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/TENQCiIWa_I/AAAAAAAAAGU/D7xMSMnbUI4/s72-c/11072010161.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-844686837797376148</id><published>2010-07-18T21:02:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T21:02:54.163+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Paul Valéry</title><content type='html'>Il modo migliore per realizzare i propri sogni è svegliarsi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-844686837797376148?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/844686837797376148/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/07/paul-valery.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/844686837797376148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/844686837797376148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/07/paul-valery.html' title='Paul Valéry'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-3010362315970162645</id><published>2010-06-29T21:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T21:15:01.389+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Desaparesidos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Me llaman el desaparecido&lt;br /&gt;Cuando llega ya se ha ido&lt;br /&gt;Volando vengo, volando voy&lt;br /&gt;Deprisa deprisa a rumbo perdido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando me buscan nunca estoy&lt;br /&gt;Cuando me encuentran yo no soy&lt;br /&gt;El que está enfrente porque ya&lt;br /&gt;Me fui corriendo más allá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen el desaparecido&lt;br /&gt;Fantasma que nunca está&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen el desagradecido&lt;br /&gt;Pero esa no es la verdad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo llevo en el cuerpo un dolor&lt;br /&gt;Que no me deja respirar&lt;br /&gt;Llevo en el cuerpo una condena&lt;br /&gt;Que siempre me echa a caminar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen el desaparecido&lt;br /&gt;Que cuando llega ya se ha ido&lt;br /&gt;Volando vengo, volando voy&lt;br /&gt;Deprisa deprisa a rumbo perdido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen el desaparecido&lt;br /&gt;Fantasma que nunca está&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen el desagradecido&lt;br /&gt;Pero esa no es la verdad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo llevo en el cuerpo un motor&lt;br /&gt;Que nunca deja de rolar&lt;br /&gt;llevo en el alma un camino&lt;br /&gt;Destinado a nunca llegar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando me buscan nunca estoy&lt;br /&gt;Cuando me encuentran yo no soy&lt;br /&gt;El que esta enfrente por que ya&lt;br /&gt;me fui corriendo mas alla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me dicen el desaparecido&lt;br /&gt;Cuando llega ya se ha ido&lt;br /&gt;Volando vengo, volando voy&lt;br /&gt;Deprisa deprisa a rumbo perdido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdido en el siglo... &lt;br /&gt;Perdido en el siglo… &lt;br /&gt;siglo XX... &lt;br /&gt;rumbo al XXI…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Manu Chao &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-3010362315970162645?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/3010362315970162645/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/desaparesidos.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3010362315970162645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3010362315970162645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/desaparesidos.html' title='Desaparesidos'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-7430166248489007986</id><published>2010-06-23T21:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T21:25:34.800+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Police - King of Pain</title><content type='html'>&lt;object style="background-image: url(&amp;quot;http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/CGEJcizQEXk/hqdefault.jpg&amp;quot;);" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CGEJcizQEXk&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CGEJcizQEXk&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-7430166248489007986?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/7430166248489007986/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/police-king-of-pain.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7430166248489007986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7430166248489007986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/police-king-of-pain.html' title='The Police - King of Pain'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-5009373289563102578</id><published>2010-06-21T20:39:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T20:40:42.590+02:00</updated><title type='text'>TCHAIKOVSKY: Swan Lake - Лебединое Озеро</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" style="background-image: url(&amp;quot;http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/ph3h2IJAsgk/hqdefault.jpg&amp;quot;);" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ph3h2IJAsgk&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ph3h2IJAsgk&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;la vita a volte è come una danza, il segreto sta nel&amp;nbsp; saper come andare a tempo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-5009373289563102578?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/5009373289563102578/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/tchaikovsky-swan-lake.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5009373289563102578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5009373289563102578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/tchaikovsky-swan-lake.html' title='TCHAIKOVSKY: Swan Lake - Лебединое Озеро'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1612473720175057174</id><published>2010-06-20T21:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T21:36:26.154+02:00</updated><title type='text'>U2 - With or Without You (Alternative Video) 1987 [HQ]</title><content type='html'>&lt;object style="background-image: url(&amp;quot;http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/lCjWKQ08dWE/hqdefault.jpg&amp;quot;);" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lCjWKQ08dWE&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lCjWKQ08dWE&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1612473720175057174?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1612473720175057174/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/u2-with-or-without-you-alternative.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1612473720175057174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1612473720175057174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/u2-with-or-without-you-alternative.html' title='U2 - With or Without You (Alternative Video) 1987 [HQ]'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-8064766719550147688</id><published>2010-06-08T22:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T22:18:09.040+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sere d'estate (?)  quasi...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsfMFpW-cVY&amp;amp;a=9E_MHl8HlgY&amp;amp;playnext_from=ML&amp;amp;playnext=3"&gt;io no....&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-8064766719550147688?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/8064766719550147688/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/sere-destate-quasi_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/8064766719550147688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/8064766719550147688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/06/sere-destate-quasi_08.html' title='sere d&apos;estate (?)  quasi...'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-7764402563800527441</id><published>2010-05-09T21:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T21:09:30.174+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow (Hey O)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="testo"&gt;Come to decide that the things that I tried &lt;br /&gt;Were in my life just to get high on &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I sit alone come get a little known &lt;br /&gt;But I need more than myself this time &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step from the road to the sea to the sky &lt;br /&gt;And I do believe that we rely on &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I lay it on &lt;br /&gt;Come get to play it on &lt;br /&gt;All my life to sacrifice &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey oh listen what I say oh &lt;br /&gt;I got your &lt;br /&gt;Hey oh now listen what I say oh, oh &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I know that I really can't go &lt;br /&gt;To the well once more time to decide on &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it's killing me &lt;br /&gt;When will I really see &lt;br /&gt;All that I need to look inside &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to believe that I better not leave &lt;br /&gt;Before I get my chance to ride &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it's killing me &lt;br /&gt;What do I really need &lt;br /&gt;All that I need to look inside &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey oh listen what I say oh &lt;br /&gt;Come back and  &lt;br /&gt;Hey oh look at what I say oh &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I see the less I know &lt;br /&gt;The more I like to let it go hey oh  &lt;br /&gt;Wooooaaah &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder &lt;br /&gt;Where it's so white as snow &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privately divided by a world so undecided &lt;br /&gt;And there's nowhere to go &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In between the cover of another perfect wonder &lt;br /&gt;And it's so white as snow &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running through the field where all my tracks will &lt;br /&gt;Be concealed and there's nowhere to go oh! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When to descend to amend for a friend &lt;br /&gt;All the channels that have broken down &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you bring it up &lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna ring it up &lt;br /&gt;Just to hear you sing it out &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step from the road to the sea to the sky &lt;br /&gt;And I do believe what we rely on &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I lay it on &lt;br /&gt;Come get to play it on &lt;br /&gt;All my life to sacrifice &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey oh listen what I say oh &lt;br /&gt;I got your &lt;br /&gt;Hey oh listen what I say oh &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I see the less I know &lt;br /&gt;The more I like to let it go hey oh  &lt;br /&gt;Wooooaaah &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder &lt;br /&gt;Where it's so white as snow &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privately divided by a world so undecided &lt;br /&gt;And there's nowhere to go  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In between the cover of another perfect wonder &lt;br /&gt;Where it's so white as snow &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running through the field where all my tracks will &lt;br /&gt;Be concealed and there's nowhere to go &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said hey, hey yeah oh yeah tell my love now &lt;br /&gt;Hey, hey yeah oh yeah tell my love now &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder &lt;br /&gt;Where it's so white as snow &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Privately divided by a world so undecided &lt;br /&gt;And there's nowhere to go  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder &lt;br /&gt;Where it's so white as snow &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running through the field where all my tracks will &lt;br /&gt;Be concealed and there's nowhere to go &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said hey oh yeah oh yeah tell my love now &lt;br /&gt;Hey yeah yeah ooh yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="testo"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Red Hot Chili Peppers &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-7764402563800527441?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/7764402563800527441/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/05/snow-hey-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7764402563800527441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7764402563800527441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/05/snow-hey-o.html' title='Snow (Hey O)'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-2974398309825736016</id><published>2010-05-07T21:04:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T21:04:41.677+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Oasis - Stop Crying Your Heart Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;object style="background-image: url(&amp;quot;http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/WoJKOJ10g5o/hqdefault.jpg&amp;quot;);" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WoJKOJ10g5o&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WoJKOJ10g5o&amp;amp;hl=it_IT&amp;amp;fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-2974398309825736016?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/2974398309825736016/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/05/oasis-stop-crying-your-heart-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2974398309825736016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2974398309825736016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/05/oasis-stop-crying-your-heart-out.html' title='Oasis - Stop Crying Your Heart Out'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-9134855784183155523</id><published>2010-05-07T21:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T21:04:23.060+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop crying your heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="testo"&gt;Hold up &lt;br /&gt;hold on &lt;br /&gt;don't be scared &lt;br /&gt;you'll never change whats been and gone &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may your smile (may your smile) &lt;br /&gt;shine on (shine on) &lt;br /&gt;don't be scared (don't be scared) &lt;br /&gt;your destiny may keep you warm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cos all of the stars &lt;br /&gt;are fading away &lt;br /&gt;just try not to worry &lt;br /&gt;you'll see them some day &lt;br /&gt;take what you need &lt;br /&gt;and be on your way &lt;br /&gt;and stop crying your heart out &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;get up (get up) &lt;br /&gt;come on (come on) &lt;br /&gt;why're you scared? (i'm not scared) &lt;br /&gt;you'll never change &lt;br /&gt;whats been and gone &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cos all of the stars &lt;br /&gt;are fading away &lt;br /&gt;just try not to worry &lt;br /&gt;you'll see them some day &lt;br /&gt;take what you need &lt;br /&gt;and be on your way &lt;br /&gt;and stop crying your heart out &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cos all of the stars &lt;br /&gt;are fading away &lt;br /&gt;just try not to worry &lt;br /&gt;you'll see them some day &lt;br /&gt;take what you need &lt;br /&gt;and be on your way &lt;br /&gt;and stop crying your heart out &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're all of us stars &lt;br /&gt;we're fading away &lt;br /&gt;just try not to worry &lt;br /&gt;you'll see us some day &lt;br /&gt;just take what you need &lt;br /&gt;and be on your way &lt;br /&gt;and stop crying your heart out &lt;br /&gt;stop crying your heart out &lt;br /&gt;stop crying your heart out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="testo"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oasis&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-9134855784183155523?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/9134855784183155523/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/05/stop-crying-your-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/9134855784183155523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/9134855784183155523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/05/stop-crying-your-heart.html' title='Stop crying your heart'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1551244368029008675</id><published>2010-03-16T20:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T20:14:51.308+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Baciami ancora</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;One, due, tre, four.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Un bellissimo spreco di tempo&lt;br /&gt;un’impresa impossibile,&lt;br /&gt;l’invenzione di un sogno,&lt;br /&gt;una vita in un giorno&lt;br /&gt;una tenda al di là della duna.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Un pianeta in un sasso, l’infinito in un passo&lt;br /&gt;un riflesso di un sole sull’onda di un fiume&lt;br /&gt;son tornate le lucciole a Roma&lt;br /&gt;nei parchi del centro l’estate profuma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Una mamma,  un amante, una figlia&lt;br /&gt;un impegno, una volta una nuvola scura&lt;br /&gt;un magnete sul frigo, un quaderno di appunti&lt;br /&gt;una casa, un aereo che vola.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Baciami ancora,baciami ancora…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Tutto il resto è un rumore lontano&lt;br /&gt;una stella che esplode ai confini del cielo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Baciami ancora, baciami ancora…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Voglio stare con te&lt;br /&gt;inseguire con te&lt;br /&gt;tutte le onde del nostro destino...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Una bimba che danza, un cielo, una stanza&lt;br /&gt;una strada, un lavoro, una scuola...&lt;br /&gt;Un pensiero che sfugge&lt;br /&gt;una luce che sfiora&lt;br /&gt;una fiamma che incendia l’aurora. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Un errore perfetto, un diamante, un difetto&lt;br /&gt;uno strappo che non si ricuce.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Un respiro profondo per non impazzire&lt;br /&gt;una semplice storia  d’amore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Un pirata, un soldato, un dio da tradire&lt;br /&gt;e l’occasione che non hai mai incontrato.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;La tua vera natura, la giustizia del mondo&lt;br /&gt;che punisce chi ha le ali e non vola.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Baciami ancora, baciami ancora…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Tutto il resto è un rumore lontano&lt;br /&gt;una stella che esplode ai confini del cielo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Baciami ancora, baciami ancora…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Voglio stare con te&lt;br /&gt;invecchiare con te&lt;br /&gt;stare soli  io e te.. sulla luna.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Coincidenze, destino,&lt;br /&gt;un gigante, un bambino che gioca con l’arco e le frecce&lt;br /&gt;che colpisce e poi scappa..&lt;br /&gt;Un tesoro, una mappa,&lt;br /&gt;l’amore che detta ogni legge&lt;br /&gt;per provare a vedere&lt;br /&gt;che c’è laggiù in fondo&lt;br /&gt;dove sembra impossibile stare da soli&lt;br /&gt;a guardarsi negli occhi&lt;br /&gt;a riempire gli specchi&lt;br /&gt;con i nostri riflessi migliori&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Baciami ancora…baciami ancora…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Voglio stare con te&lt;br /&gt;inseguire con te&lt;br /&gt;tutte le onde del nostro destino.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Baciami ancora,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;baciami ancora…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jovanotti &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1551244368029008675?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1551244368029008675/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/03/baciami-ancora.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1551244368029008675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1551244368029008675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/03/baciami-ancora.html' title='Baciami ancora'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-6156818980810298311</id><published>2010-02-08T15:51:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T15:52:30.839+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a rock</title><content type='html'>A winter's day&lt;br /&gt;In a deep and dark December;&lt;br /&gt;I am alone,&lt;br /&gt;Gazing from my window to the streets below&lt;br /&gt;On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.&lt;br /&gt;I am a rock,&lt;br /&gt;I am an island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've built walls,&lt;br /&gt;A fortress deep and mighty,&lt;br /&gt;That none may penetrate.&lt;br /&gt;I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.&lt;br /&gt;It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.&lt;br /&gt;I am a rock,&lt;br /&gt;I am an island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't talk of love,&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've heard the word before.&lt;br /&gt;It's sleeping in my memory.&lt;br /&gt;I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.&lt;br /&gt;If I never loved I never would have cried.&lt;br /&gt;I am a rock,&lt;br /&gt;I am an island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my books&lt;br /&gt;And my poetry to protect me;&lt;br /&gt;I am shielded in my armor,&lt;br /&gt;Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.&lt;br /&gt;I touch no one and no one touches me.&lt;br /&gt;I am a rock,&lt;br /&gt;I am an island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a rock feels no pain;&lt;br /&gt;And an island never cries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Simon and Garfunkel&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-6156818980810298311?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/6156818980810298311/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-am-rock.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6156818980810298311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6156818980810298311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-am-rock.html' title='I am a rock'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-4959901662806289708</id><published>2010-01-17T21:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T21:31:56.490+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rome wasn't  built in a day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;You and me we're meant to be &lt;br /&gt;Walking free in harmony &lt;br /&gt;One fine day we' ll fly away &lt;br /&gt;Don' t you know that Rome wasn' t built in a day &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this day and age it's so easy to stress &lt;br /&gt;'Cause people are strange and you can never second guess &lt;br /&gt;In order to love child we got to be strong &lt;br /&gt;I'm caught in the crossfire why can't we get along &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you and me we're meant to be &lt;br /&gt;Walking free in harmony &lt;br /&gt;One fine day we' ll fly away &lt;br /&gt;Don' t you know that Rome wasn' t built in a day &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a daydream, we're getting somewhere &lt;br /&gt;I'm kissing your lips and running fingers through your hair &lt;br /&gt;I'm as nervous as you 'bout making it right &lt;br /&gt;Though we know we were wrong, we can' t give up the fight &lt;br /&gt;Oh no &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you and me we're meant to be &lt;br /&gt;Walking free in harmony &lt;br /&gt;One fine day we' ll run away &lt;br /&gt;Don' t you know that Rome wasn' t built in a day &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and me we're meant to be &lt;br /&gt;Walking free in harmony &lt;br /&gt;One fine day we' ll fly away &lt;br /&gt;Don' t you know that Rome wasn' t built in a day &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and me (you and me) we're meant to be (meant to be) &lt;br /&gt;Walking free (walking free) in harmony (in harmony) &lt;br /&gt;One fine day (one fine day) we' ll ran away (we gonna ran away, we gonna ran away) &lt;br /&gt;Don' t you know that Rome wasn' t built in a day &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and me (you and me) we're meant to be (meant to be) &lt;br /&gt;Walking free (walking free) in harmony (in harmony) &lt;br /&gt;One fine day (one fine day) we' ll fly away (we gonna ran away, we gonna ran away) &lt;br /&gt;Don' t you know that Rome wasn' t built in a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Morcheeba&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-4959901662806289708?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/4959901662806289708/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/01/rome-wasnt-built-in-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4959901662806289708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4959901662806289708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/01/rome-wasnt-built-in-day.html' title='Rome wasn&apos;t  built in a day'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-3931275740984367082</id><published>2010-01-16T21:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T21:05:40.496+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Throug the barricades</title><content type='html'>Mother doesn’t know where love has gone&lt;br /&gt;She says it must be youth&lt;br /&gt;That keeps us feeeling strong&lt;br /&gt;See it in her face, that’s turned to ice&lt;br /&gt;And when she smiles she shows&lt;br /&gt;The lines of sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;And now I know what they’re saying&lt;br /&gt;When the sun begins to fade&lt;br /&gt;And we made our love on wasteland&lt;br /&gt;And through the barricades&lt;br /&gt;Father made my history&lt;br /&gt;He fought for what he thought&lt;br /&gt;Would set us somehow free&lt;br /&gt;He tought me what to say in school&lt;br /&gt;I learned off by heart&lt;br /&gt;But now that’s torn in two&lt;br /&gt;And now I know what they’re saying&lt;br /&gt;In the music of the parade&lt;br /&gt;We made our love on wasteland&lt;br /&gt;And through the barricades&lt;br /&gt;Born on different sides of life&lt;br /&gt;We feel the same&lt;br /&gt;And feel all of this strife&lt;br /&gt;So come to me when I’m asleep&lt;br /&gt;We’ll cross the line&lt;br /&gt;And dance upon the street&lt;br /&gt;And now I know what they’re saying&lt;br /&gt;When the drums begin to fade&lt;br /&gt;We made our love on wasteland&lt;br /&gt;And through the barricades&lt;br /&gt;Oh, turn around and I’ll be there&lt;br /&gt;There’s a scar through my heart&lt;br /&gt;But I’ll bare it again&lt;br /&gt;I thought? we were the human race&lt;br /&gt;But we were just another border-line-case&lt;br /&gt;And the stars reach down and tell us&lt;br /&gt;That there’s always one escape&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know where love has gone&lt;br /&gt;And in this trouble land&lt;br /&gt;Desperation keep us strong&lt;br /&gt;Fridays child is full of soul&lt;br /&gt;With nothing left to lose&lt;br /&gt;There’s everything to go&lt;br /&gt;And now I know what they’re are saying&lt;br /&gt;It’s a terrible beauty we’ve made&lt;br /&gt;So we make our love on? wasteland&lt;br /&gt;And through the barricades&lt;br /&gt;Now I know what they’re are saying&lt;br /&gt;As hearts go to their graves&lt;br /&gt;We made our love on? wasteland&lt;br /&gt;And through the barricades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Spandau Ballet &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-3931275740984367082?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/3931275740984367082/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/01/throug-barricades.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3931275740984367082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3931275740984367082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/01/throug-barricades.html' title='Throug the barricades'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-4935919317717262238</id><published>2010-01-05T15:27:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T15:32:36.795+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ho imparato...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;" class="testo"&gt;Ho imparato a sognare,&lt;br /&gt;che non ero bambino&lt;br /&gt;che non ero neanche un' età.&lt;br /&gt;Quando un giorno di scuola&lt;br /&gt;mi durava una vita&lt;br /&gt;e il mio mondo finiva un po là.&lt;br /&gt;Tra quel prete palloso&lt;br /&gt;che ci dava da fare&lt;br /&gt;e il pallone che andava&lt;br /&gt;come fosse a motore.&lt;br /&gt;C'era chi era incapace a sognare&lt;br /&gt;e chi sognava già.&lt;br /&gt;Ho imparato a sognare&lt;br /&gt;e ho iniziato a sperare&lt;br /&gt;che chi c'ha avere, avrà .&lt;br /&gt;Ho imparato a sognare&lt;br /&gt;quando un sogno è un cannone, &lt;br /&gt;che se sogni&lt;br /&gt;ne ammazzi metà.&lt;br /&gt;Quando inizi a capire&lt;br /&gt;che sei solo e in mutande &lt;br /&gt;quando inizi a capire&lt;br /&gt;che tutto è più grande...&lt;br /&gt;C' era chi era incapace a sognare&lt;br /&gt;e chi sognava già ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tra una botta che prendo&lt;br /&gt;e una botta che dò, &lt;br /&gt;tra un amico che perdo&lt;br /&gt;e un amico che avrò  ..&lt;br /&gt;che se cado una volta&lt;br /&gt;una volta cadrò &lt;br /&gt;e da terra, da lì m'alzerò  ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'è che ormai che ho imparato a sognare non smetterò&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho imparato a sognare,&lt;br /&gt;quando inizi a scoprire &lt;br /&gt;che ogni sogno&lt;br /&gt;ti porta più in là&lt;br /&gt;cavalcando aquiloni,&lt;br /&gt;oltre muri e confini&lt;br /&gt;ho imparato a sognare da là&lt;br /&gt;Quando tutte le scuse,&lt;br /&gt;per giocare son buone&lt;br /&gt;quando tutta la vita&lt;br /&gt;è una bella canzone&lt;br /&gt;C'era chi era incapace a sognare&lt;br /&gt;e chi sognava già&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tra una botta che prendo&lt;br /&gt;e una botta che dò &lt;br /&gt;tra un amico che perdo&lt;br /&gt;e un amico che avrò.. &lt;br /&gt;che se cado una volta&lt;br /&gt;una volta cadrò &lt;br /&gt;e da terra, da lì m'alzerò &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'è che ormai che ho imparato a sognare non smetterò...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Negrita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-4935919317717262238?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/4935919317717262238/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/01/ho-imparato.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4935919317717262238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4935919317717262238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2010/01/ho-imparato.html' title='Ho imparato...'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1361308782955256624</id><published>2009-11-01T19:16:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T19:25:43.149+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ad ogni costo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SW59I5y-9Mk"&gt;Vasco Rossi : da visualizzare su You Tube&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="testo"&gt;Guarda che lo so&lt;br /&gt;che gli occhi che hai&lt;br /&gt;non son sinceri,&lt;br /&gt;sinceri mai;&lt;br /&gt;già da quando neanche quando ti svegli.&lt;br /&gt;Na na na..&lt;br /&gt;Tanto è lo stesso,&lt;br /&gt;soffro anche spesso.&lt;br /&gt;Ma sono qui,&lt;br /&gt;amo dirtelo.&lt;br /&gt;Voglio restare insieme a te,&lt;br /&gt;ad ogni costo,&lt;br /&gt;ad ogni costo.&lt;br /&gt;Guarda che lo so,&lt;br /&gt;mi tradirai,&lt;br /&gt;io ti conosco;&lt;br /&gt;e lo farai senza neanche rimorso !!&lt;br /&gt;Nanana..&lt;br /&gt;Tanto è lo stesso,&lt;br /&gt;soffro anche spesso ...&lt;br /&gt;Ma sono qui,&lt;br /&gt;amo dirtelo ...&lt;br /&gt;Voglio restare insieme a te,&lt;br /&gt;ad ogni costo ..&lt;br /&gt;ad ogni costo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1361308782955256624?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1361308782955256624/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/11/ad-ogni-costo.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1361308782955256624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1361308782955256624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/11/ad-ogni-costo.html' title='ad ogni costo'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-918995917402091232</id><published>2009-10-25T11:29:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T11:33:44.047+01:00</updated><title type='text'>vita...</title><content type='html'>"...Alla fine la vita non è fatta solo di labirinti pieni di giravolte, strettoie, spigoli e gomiti dove uno rimane intrappolato. Ci sono anche sentieri, strade, pianure, praterie e orizzonti illuminati da esplorare. Si tratta solo di non aver paura, di mettersi in cammino e non voltarsi mai verso il passato".&lt;br /&gt;da : "Il silenzio dei chiostri" di &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Alicia Giménez-Bartlett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-918995917402091232?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/918995917402091232/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/vita.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/918995917402091232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/918995917402091232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/vita.html' title='vita...'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-6528084195839409086</id><published>2009-10-22T20:49:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T20:53:52.336+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Walzer di gomma</title><content type='html'>Corre la gioventù,corre e non torna più.&lt;br /&gt;Passano gli anni e poi..non passan più...&lt;br /&gt;Bella la gioventù,passa e non torna più&lt;br /&gt;Quando mi trovo a passare di qua!&lt;br /&gt;sento la gente "cantare"&lt;br /&gt;vedo le donne cambiare opinione&lt;br /&gt;senza lasciarsi "fregare"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batto la testa in un mare di gomma&lt;br /&gt;battere non mi fa male&lt;br /&gt;ma le mie mani non toccano niente&lt;br /&gt;le senti solo "affondare"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando mi trovo a volare in alto sopra al mondo&lt;br /&gt;vedo la gente scappare&lt;br /&gt;sento che arrivano gli uomini con il fucile&lt;br /&gt;sento che vogliono "sparare"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batto più forte la testa nel muro&lt;br /&gt;battere fa rimbalzare&lt;br /&gt;mentre la gomma, non fa il minimo rumore&lt;br /&gt;lo senti solo affondare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando la sera diventa più buia&lt;br /&gt;dopo una giornata splendida di sole -è-è-èh!&lt;br /&gt;senti il respiro, il respiro del mare&lt;br /&gt;dentro la gente che muore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morbida - soffice - bianca è la gomma&lt;br /&gt;e la mia mente ci affonda&lt;br /&gt;non mi ricordo.... che cosa devo ricordare?!?....&lt;br /&gt;non mi ricordo il mio nome......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E-Ecco che si è alzato il vento&lt;br /&gt;ora lo sento fischiare&lt;br /&gt;dentro le foglie lo sento gridare&lt;br /&gt;sembra che voglia parlare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Battere! battere! sempre più forte&lt;br /&gt;"battere" per non pensare&lt;br /&gt;dentro la testa il cervello si smuove&lt;br /&gt;adesso può "rotolare".....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rotola rotola rotola rotola di qua e di là-à!&lt;br /&gt;rotola rotola rotola rotola di qua e di là-à!&lt;br /&gt;rotola rotola rotola rotola di qua e di là-à!.......&lt;br /&gt;Corre la gioventù!&lt;br /&gt;corre e non torna più/passano gli anni e poi/non passan più!...&lt;br /&gt;Bella la gioventù,passa e non torna più&lt;br /&gt;e questa guerra invece,non passa più&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V.Rossi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-6528084195839409086?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/6528084195839409086/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/walzer-di-gomma.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6528084195839409086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6528084195839409086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/walzer-di-gomma.html' title='Walzer di gomma'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-2548186558869058345</id><published>2009-10-21T19:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T19:40:04.280+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Il silenzio dei chiostri</title><content type='html'>"...Sono sempre stato convinto che voi donne siate più versatili di noi uomini.Voi sapete amare molte cose contemporaneamente, ognuna in modo diverso.Siete capaci di amare il vostro lavoro, e i figli, e gli animali, e il marito...Invece noi uomini abbiamo una riserva d'amore limitata e la riversiamo tutta su un solo oggetto. Per questo quel che mettiamo da una parte siamo costretti a toglierlo dall'altra....".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Alicia Giménez-Bartlett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-2548186558869058345?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/2548186558869058345/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/il-silenzio-dei-chiostri.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2548186558869058345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2548186558869058345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/il-silenzio-dei-chiostri.html' title='Il silenzio dei chiostri'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-6420271040920550478</id><published>2009-10-19T17:15:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T17:21:42.597+02:00</updated><title type='text'>pensieri...</title><content type='html'>Ho ricevuto un bell'articolo sui nativi digitali e mi sono chiesto, ma io dove mi colloco?&lt;br /&gt;Navigando ho trovato un possibile spazio....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Gli eretici digitali&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Contemporaneo è colui che tiene fisso lo sguardo sul suo tempo per percepirne non le luci, ma il buio. Contemporaneo è colui che riceve in pieno viso il fascio di tenebra che proviene dal suo tempo”. (…) “Appartiene veramente al suo tempo, è veramente contemporaneo colui che non coincide perfettamente con esso né si adegua alle sue pretese, ed è per questo inattuale. Ma proprio grazie a questo scarto e questo anacronismo è in grado più degli altri di percepire e afferrare il suo tempo”.&lt;br /&gt;Giorgio Agamben&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tratto dal sito :"&lt;a href="http://www.ereticidigitali.it/"&gt;http://www.ereticidigitali.it/&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-6420271040920550478?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/6420271040920550478/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/pensieri.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6420271040920550478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6420271040920550478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/pensieri.html' title='pensieri...'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1560260339293975489</id><published>2009-10-10T21:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T21:02:49.741+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Spleen</title><content type='html'>Quand le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle Sur l'esprit gémissant en proie aux longs ennuis, Et que de l'horizon embrassant tout le cercle Il nous verse un jour noir plus triste que les nuits; Quand la terre est changée en un cachot humide, Où l'Espérance, comme une chauve-souris, S'en va battant les murs de son aile timide Et se cognant la tête à des plafonds pourris; Quand la pluie étalant ses immenses traînées D'une vaste prison imite les barreaux, Et qu'un peuple muet d'infâmes araignées Vient tendre ses filets au fond de nos cerveaux, Des cloches tout à coup sautent avec furie Et lancent vers le ciel un affreux hurlement, Ainsi que des esprits errants et sans patrie Qui se mettent à geindre opiniâtrément.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1560260339293975489?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1560260339293975489/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/spleen.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1560260339293975489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1560260339293975489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/spleen.html' title='Spleen'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1744660957844388483</id><published>2009-10-02T21:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T21:16:20.128+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Il mondo che vorrei</title><content type='html'>"...Ed è proprio quello che non si potrebbe che vorrei ed è sempre quello che non si farebbe che farei ed è come quello che non si direbbe che direi, quando dico che non è così il Mondo che vorrei..."&lt;br /&gt;V.Rossi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1744660957844388483?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1744660957844388483/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/il-mondo-che-vorrei.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1744660957844388483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1744660957844388483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/10/il-mondo-che-vorrei.html' title='Il mondo che vorrei'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1360437956753892060</id><published>2009-09-15T20:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T20:29:54.952+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"...si sente un buon profumo, un bel silenzio e l'acqua che va..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;πάντα ῥεῖ&lt;/span&gt; .....Panta rei os potamòs.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1360437956753892060?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1360437956753892060/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/09/si-sente-un-buon-profumo-un-bel.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1360437956753892060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1360437956753892060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/09/si-sente-un-buon-profumo-un-bel.html' title='&quot;...si sente un buon profumo, un bel silenzio e l&apos;acqua che va...&quot;'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-6439250050480210922</id><published>2009-09-02T22:47:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T22:50:01.887+02:00</updated><title type='text'>una riflessione</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dn39Oagx2Kc"&gt;Così è la vita ...Ultima lezione di Randy Pausch&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-6439250050480210922?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/6439250050480210922/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/09/una-riflessione.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6439250050480210922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6439250050480210922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/09/una-riflessione.html' title='una riflessione'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-7759265333788692772</id><published>2009-08-27T21:02:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T21:03:41.034+02:00</updated><title type='text'>un aforismo</title><content type='html'>"Chi ha paura muore ogni giorno, chi non ha paura muore una volta sola volta" (Paolo Borsellino)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-7759265333788692772?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/7759265333788692772/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/08/un-aforismo.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7759265333788692772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/7759265333788692772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/08/un-aforismo.html' title='un aforismo'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-5475856661309494272</id><published>2009-08-16T20:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T20:43:01.743+02:00</updated><title type='text'>il canto delle sirene</title><content type='html'>Non sarà il canto delle sirene che ci innamorerà,&lt;br /&gt;noi lo conosciamo bene, l'abbiamo sentito già,&lt;br /&gt;e nemmeno la mano affilata, di un uomo o di una divinità.&lt;br /&gt;Non sarà il canto delle sirene in una notte senza lume,&lt;br /&gt;a riportarci sulle nostre tracce, dove l'oceano risale il fiume,&lt;br /&gt;dove si calmano le onde, dove si spegne il rumore.&lt;br /&gt;Non sarà il canto delle sirene, ascoltaci o Signore.&lt;br /&gt;Mio padre era un marinaio, conosceva le città,&lt;br /&gt;mio padre era un marinaio, partito molti mesi fa.&lt;br /&gt;Mio figlio non lo conosce, mio figlio non lo saprà,&lt;br /&gt;mio padre era un marinaio, partito molti mesi fa.&lt;br /&gt;Non sarà il canto delle sirene, nel girone terrestre,&lt;br /&gt;ad insegnarci quale ritorno, attraverso alle tempeste,&lt;br /&gt;quando la bussola si incanta, quando si pianta il motore.&lt;br /&gt;Non sarà il canto delle sirene ad addormentarci il cuore,&lt;br /&gt;quando l'occhio di Ismaele si affaccia da dietro il sole,&lt;br /&gt;e nella schiuma della nostra scia qualcosa appare e scompare.&lt;br /&gt;Non sarà il canto delle sirene che non ci farà guardare.&lt;br /&gt;Mio padre era un marinaio e andava a navigare,&lt;br /&gt;se l'è portato il vento, se l'è portato il mare.&lt;br /&gt;Mio padre era un marinaio, girava le città,&lt;br /&gt;mio figlio non le conosce, ma le conoscerà.&lt;br /&gt;Non sarà il canto delle sirene che ci addormenterà,&lt;br /&gt;l'abbiamo sentito bene, l'abbiamo sentito già,&lt;br /&gt;ma sarà il coro delle nostre donne, da una spiaggia di sassi.&lt;br /&gt;Sarà la voce delle nostre donne, a guidare i nostri passi,&lt;br /&gt;i nostri passi nel vento, e il vento ci prende per vela.&lt;br /&gt;Sarà di ferro la sabbia, sarà di fuoco la terra.&lt;br /&gt;Ascoltaci o Signore, perdonaci la vita intera.&lt;br /&gt;Mio padre era un marinaio, conosceva le città,&lt;br /&gt;partito il mese di febbraio di mille anni fa,&lt;br /&gt;mio figlio non lo ricorda, ma lo ricorderà,&lt;br /&gt;mio padre era un marinaio, mio figlio lo sarà.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-5475856661309494272?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/5475856661309494272/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/08/il-canto-delle-sirene.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5475856661309494272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5475856661309494272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/08/il-canto-delle-sirene.html' title='il canto delle sirene'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-3569560161081545355</id><published>2009-08-09T21:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T21:28:11.908+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sulla mia strada</title><content type='html'>C'è chi mi vuole come vuole&lt;br /&gt;un po' più santo&lt;br /&gt;più criminale&lt;br /&gt;e un po' più nuovo&lt;br /&gt;un po' più uguale&lt;br /&gt;mi vuole come vuole&lt;br /&gt;c'è chi mi vuole per cliente&lt;br /&gt;chi non mi vuole&lt;br /&gt;mai per niente&lt;br /&gt;e c'è chi vuole le mie scuse&lt;br /&gt;che ciò che sono l'ha offeso&lt;br /&gt;di un po': te come ti vogliono?&lt;br /&gt;di un po' tu come ti vuoi? tu come ti vuoi?&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;per di qua&lt;br /&gt;comunque vada&lt;br /&gt;sempre sulla mia strada&lt;br /&gt;c'è chi mi vuole più me stesso&lt;br /&gt;e più profondo, più maledetto&lt;br /&gt;e bravo padre e bravo a letto&lt;br /&gt;c'è chi mi vuole perfetto&lt;br /&gt;di un po': te come ti vogliono?&lt;br /&gt;di un po' tu come ti vuoi? tu come ti vuoi?&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;per di qua&lt;br /&gt;comunque vada&lt;br /&gt;sempre sulla mia strada&lt;br /&gt;di un po': te come ti vogliono?&lt;br /&gt;di un po' tu come ti vuoi? tu come ti vuoi?&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;per di qua&lt;br /&gt;comunque vada&lt;br /&gt;sempre sulla mia strada&lt;br /&gt;di un po': te come ti vogliono?&lt;br /&gt;di un po' tu come ti vuoi? tu come ti vuoi?&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;sono vivo abbastanza&lt;br /&gt;per di qua&lt;br /&gt;comunque vada&lt;br /&gt;sempre sulla mia strada&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-3569560161081545355?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/3569560161081545355/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/08/sulla-mia-strada.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3569560161081545355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3569560161081545355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/08/sulla-mia-strada.html' title='Sulla mia strada'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-4248732951250084146</id><published>2009-05-26T21:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T21:41:34.637+02:00</updated><title type='text'>il capitano</title><content type='html'>In quanto al capitano, non si potrebbe trovare un padrone più tranquillo. Talvolta verrebbe fatto di pensare che non abbia neppure quel tanto di buon senso che ci vuole per accorgersi se una cosa va male, e tuttavia non dev’essere così, non può essere così.  Comanda da un bel po’ di anni ormai; stupidaggini vere e proprie non ne fa, e porta avanti la nave a meraviglia, senza seccare nessuno.&lt;br /&gt;As to our old man, you could not find a quieter skipper. Sometimes you would think he hadn’t sense enough to see anything wrong. And yet it hasn’t that. Can’t be. He has been in command for a good few years now. He doesn’t do anything actually foolish, and gets his ship along all right without worrying anybody.&lt;br /&gt;….&lt;br /&gt;Il capitano MacWhirr chiuse gli occhi. Voleva riposare. Era stanco. Si sentiva in quello stato di vacuità mentale  che sopravviene al termine d’una discussione esauriente nel corso della quale è venuta in luce una convinzione maturata in anni e anni di meditazione.&lt;br /&gt;Captain MacWhirr closed his eyes. He did so to rest himself. He was tired, and he experienced that state of mental vacuity which comes at the end of an exhaustive discussion that has liberated some belief matured in the course of meditative years.&lt;br /&gt;Tale è il prestigio, il privilegio e il peso del commando. Il capitano MacWhirr non poteva aspettarsi un sollievo di tal genere da nessuno al mondo. Tale è la solitudine del comando.&lt;br /&gt;Such is the prestige, the privilege, and the burden of command. Captain MacWhirr could expect no relif of that sort from anyone on earth. Such is the loneliness of command.&lt;br /&gt;…Il capitano mi ha detto l’altro giorno: “Ci sono cose che non si trovano nei libri”.&lt;br /&gt;The skipper remarked to me the other day: “There are things you find nothing about in books”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Conrad,Thphoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-4248732951250084146?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/4248732951250084146/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/05/il-capitano.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4248732951250084146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4248732951250084146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/05/il-capitano.html' title='il capitano'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-3700559785810263757</id><published>2009-02-24T18:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T18:33:59.414+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>«La vera felicità dell'uomo sta nell'accontentarsi. Chi sia insoddisfatto, per quanto possieda, diventa schiavo dei suoi desideri.» &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Gandhi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-3700559785810263757?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/3700559785810263757/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/02/la-vera-felicita-delluomo-sta.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3700559785810263757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/3700559785810263757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/02/la-vera-felicita-delluomo-sta.html' title=''/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-5083119349207850942</id><published>2009-02-05T18:25:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T18:25:44.563+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sono stanco, capo.&lt;br /&gt;Stanco di andare sempre in giro solo come un passero nella pioggia&lt;br /&gt;Stanco di non poter mai avere un amico con me che mi dica dove andiamo, da dove veniamo e perché.&lt;br /&gt;Sono stanco soprattutto del male che gli uomini fanno a tutti gli altri uomini.&lt;br /&gt;Stanco di tutto il dolore che io sento, ascolto nel mondo ogni giorno, ce n’è troppo per me.&lt;br /&gt;È come avere pezzi di vetro conficcati in testa sempre continuamente.&lt;br /&gt;Lo capisci questo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;John Coffey – Il miglio verde - 1999&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-5083119349207850942?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/5083119349207850942/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/02/sono-stanco-capo.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5083119349207850942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/5083119349207850942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/02/sono-stanco-capo.html' title=''/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-1418218799904095547</id><published>2009-01-22T21:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T21:50:54.817+01:00</updated><title type='text'>di notte alla mia età</title><content type='html'>Sono un grande falso mentre fingo l'allegria,&lt;br /&gt;sei il gran diffidente mentre fingi simpatia,&lt;br /&gt;come un terremoto in un deserto che...&lt;br /&gt;che crolla tutto ed io son morto e nessuno se n'è accorto.&lt;br /&gt;Lo sanno tutti che in caso di pericolo si salva solo chi sa volare bene,&lt;br /&gt;quindi se escludi gli aviatori, i falchi, nuvole, gli aerei, aquile e angeli, rimani te&lt;br /&gt;ed io mi chiedo ora che farai,&lt;br /&gt;che nessuno ti verrà a salvare,&lt;br /&gt;complimenti per la vita da campione,&lt;br /&gt;insulti per l'errore di un rigore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E mi sento come chi sa piangere ancora alla mia età&lt;br /&gt;e ringrazio sempre chi sa piangere di notte alla mia età&lt;br /&gt;e vita mia che mi hai dato tanto,&lt;br /&gt;amore, gioia, dolore, tutto,&lt;br /&gt;ma grazie a chi sa sempre perdonare sulla porta alla mia età.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Certo che facile non è mai stato,&lt;br /&gt;osservavo la vita come la osserva un cieco,&lt;br /&gt;perché ciò che è detto può far male,&lt;br /&gt;però ciò che è scritto può ferire per morire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E mi sento come chi sa piangere ancora alla mia età&lt;br /&gt;e ringrazio sempre chi sa piangere di notte alla mia età&lt;br /&gt;e vita mia che mi hai dato tanto,&lt;br /&gt;amore, gioia, dolore, tutto,&lt;br /&gt;ma grazie a chi sa sempre perdonare sulla porta alla mia età.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E che la vita ti riservi ciò che serve e spero&lt;br /&gt;che piangerai per cose brutte e cose belle e spero&lt;br /&gt;senza rancore che le tue paure siano cure&lt;br /&gt;e l'allegria mancata poi diventi amore&lt;br /&gt;anche se è perché solamente il caos della retorica&lt;br /&gt;confonde i gesti, le parole, le modifica e&lt;br /&gt;e perché Dio mi ha suggerito,&lt;br /&gt;ti ho perdonato e ciò che dice lui va ascoltato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di notte alla mia età&lt;br /&gt;Di notte alla mia età.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;T.Ferro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-1418218799904095547?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/1418218799904095547/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/di-notte-alla-mia-et.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1418218799904095547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/1418218799904095547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/di-notte-alla-mia-et.html' title='di notte alla mia età'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-68505169842030448</id><published>2009-01-21T13:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T13:57:09.574+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Un capolavoro</title><content type='html'>Il più bello dei mari&lt;br /&gt;è quello che non navigammo.&lt;br /&gt;Il più bello dei nostri figli&lt;br /&gt;non è ancora cresciuto.&lt;br /&gt;I più belli dei nostri giorni&lt;br /&gt;non li abbiamo ancora vissuti.&lt;br /&gt;E quello&lt;br /&gt;che vorrei dirti di più bello&lt;br /&gt;non te l'ho ancora detto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Nazim Hikmet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-68505169842030448?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/68505169842030448/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/un-capolavoro.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/68505169842030448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/68505169842030448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/un-capolavoro.html' title='Un capolavoro'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-2369821019931283216</id><published>2009-01-06T17:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T17:17:52.760+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Seduto in riva al fosso</title><content type='html'>Ho parcheggiato e camminato non so quanto e non so dove sono, qua &lt;br /&gt;ma so soltanto che si sente un buon profumo, un bel silenzio e l'acqua che va &lt;br /&gt;lontano da me, lontano da noi, lontano dalla giostra che non si ferma mai &lt;br /&gt;e ciò il biglietto sì ma questa corsa la vorrei lasciare fare a voi &lt;br /&gt;solo a voi, la lascio fare a voi, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;che io sto bene qui, seduto in riva al fosso &lt;br /&gt;io sto bene qui, seduto in riva al fosso. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O è il riflesso della luna o sei proprio bella, se vuoi siediti! &lt;br /&gt;hai parcheggiato e camminato non sai quanto non sai dove sei, ma sei qui &lt;br /&gt;lontana da te, lontana da voi, lontana da uno specchio che non dice chi sei &lt;br /&gt;se sotto il cielo c'è qualcosa di speciale passerà di qui prima o poi &lt;br /&gt;prima o poi, comunque tu lo sai &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;che si sta bene qui seduti in riva al fosso &lt;br /&gt;stiamo bene qui, seduti in riva al fosso... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sono arrivati con la guida ed hanno apparecchiato per il loro pic-nic &lt;br /&gt;con sedie i tavolini la TV i telefonini e le facce di chi va &lt;br /&gt;lontano da chi, lontano da che, lontano per sentito dire senza un perché &lt;br /&gt;se vuoi restare resta pure ho da fare non mi viene in mente cos'è &lt;br /&gt;ma lo so che, io lo so com'è &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;che state bene lì, seduti in riva al fosso &lt;br /&gt;state bene lì seduti in riva al fosso... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avanti, state bene lì, state bene lì, state bene lì, &lt;br /&gt;state bene, lì state bene lì, state bene lì...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;L.Ligabue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-2369821019931283216?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/2369821019931283216/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/seduto-in-riva-al-fosso.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2369821019931283216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/2369821019931283216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/seduto-in-riva-al-fosso.html' title='Seduto in riva al fosso'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-6563712801615563133</id><published>2009-01-01T16:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T16:24:21.100+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm outta time</title><content type='html'>Here is a song&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of when we were young&lt;br /&gt;Looking back at all the things we’ve done&lt;br /&gt;You gotta keep on, keep on&lt;br /&gt;Ought to see, it’s the only place&lt;br /&gt;Can’t get myself some piece of mind&lt;br /&gt;You know it’s gettin’ hard to fly&lt;br /&gt;I’m outta time&lt;br /&gt;If I’m to fall&lt;br /&gt;Would you be there to applaud?&lt;br /&gt;Or would you hide behind them all?&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause if I have to go,&lt;br /&gt;In my heart you’ll grow&lt;br /&gt;And that’s where you belong…&lt;br /&gt;If I’m to fall&lt;br /&gt;Would you be there to applaud?&lt;br /&gt;Or would you hide behind them all?&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause if I have to go,&lt;br /&gt;In my heart you’ll grow&lt;br /&gt;And that’s where you belong…&lt;br /&gt;If I’m to fall&lt;br /&gt;Would you be there to applaud?&lt;br /&gt;Or would you hide behind them all?&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause if I have to go&lt;br /&gt;In my heart you’ll grow&lt;br /&gt;And that’s where you belong…&lt;br /&gt;Guess I’m outta time…&lt;br /&gt;I’m outta time…&lt;br /&gt;I’m outta time&lt;br /&gt;I’m outta time&lt;br /&gt;I’m outta time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-6563712801615563133?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/6563712801615563133/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-outta-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6563712801615563133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/6563712801615563133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-outta-time.html' title='I&apos;m outta time'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332728157495262382.post-4114613191155897533</id><published>2008-12-28T13:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T13:46:17.393+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode alla vita</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:trackmoves/&gt;   &lt;w:trackformatting/&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;14&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   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mso-footer-margin:35.45pt;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Tabella normale";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-priority:99;  mso-style-qformat:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0cm;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:11.0pt;  font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";  mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;  mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lentamente muore &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi diventa schiavo dell'abitudine, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; ripetendo ogni giorno gli stessi percorsi, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non cambia la marcia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non rischia e cambia colore dei vestiti, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non parla a chi non conosce. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Muore lentamente chi evita una passione, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi preferisce il nero su bianco &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; e i puntini sulle "i" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; piuttosto che un insieme di emozioni, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; proprio quelle che fanno brillare gli occhi, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; quelle che fanno di uno sbadiglio un sorriso, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; quelle che fanno battere il cuore &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; davanti all'errore e ai sentimenti. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Lentamente muore &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non capovolge il tavolo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi è infelice sul lavoro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non rischia la certezza per l'incertezza per inseguire un sogno, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non si permette almeno una volta nella vita, di fuggire ai consigli sensati. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Lentamente muore chi non viaggia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non legge, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non ascolta musica, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non trova grazia in se stesso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Muore lentamente chi distrugge l'amor proprio, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non si lascia aiutare &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi passa i giorni a lamentarsi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; della propria sfortuna o della pioggia incessante. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Lentamente muore &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi abbandona un progetto prima di iniziarlo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non fa domande sugli argomenti che non conosce, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; chi non risponde quando gli chiedono qualcosa che conosce. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Evitiamo la morte a piccole dosi, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; ricordando sempre che essere vivo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; richiede uno sforzo di gran lunga maggiore del semplice fatto di respirare. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Soltanto l'ardente pazienza &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; porterà al raggiungimento &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; di una splendida felicità.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Martha Medeiros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4332728157495262382-4114613191155897533?l=pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/feeds/4114613191155897533/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2008/12/di-nuovo-in-rete.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4114613191155897533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4332728157495262382/posts/default/4114613191155897533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensieridimaestro.blogspot.com/2008/12/di-nuovo-in-rete.html' title='Ode alla vita'/><author><name>Geko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03605929548045788839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g2Z1caFEgtU/SVi_Y8z-biI/AAAAAAAAAAo/RGikTIaCfaw/S220/logo.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
