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wei coinquilina..ma dove sei?? nemmeno a 12 ore dall'intervento e tu scorazzi qua e là per napoli.. brava brava ma qst tirocinio nn ti ha insegnato proprio niente!hihihihihi beata te ke sei nella tua casa dolce casa.. mi hai abbandonata in qst città mai stata così fredda a settembre.. in qst casa ormai così silenziosa..qnd la tua presenza è un urlo di gioia..e in qst camera così tranquilla e ordinata ke solo cn il tuo caos.. madò dobbiamo dare una riordinata..preferibilmente alle 11 di sera.. e di venerdì sera come i week bolognesi ke si rispettino! Lo studio e i libri non mancano mai..cm sai da qst avventura ke abbiamo intrapreso e ogni tanto sento per casa un eco ke dice "francesca francesca studiaaaaa....." sarà mia mamma ke da lecce mi ricorda l'avvenuto rinnovo della tassa al II anno e dunque i miei doveri allo studio.. uffi uffi ma quando torni? spero presto... sta casa spett a te! rimettiti presto informa... nn ti dimenticar nulla della lista ke ti ho fatto.. bacioni francesca
You think I'm an ignorant savage And you've been so many places I guess it must be so But still I cannot see If the savage one is me Now can there be so much that you don't know? You don't know ...
You think you own whatever land you land on The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim But I know every rock and tree and creature Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
You think the only people who are people Are the people who look and think like you But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger You'll learn things you never knew you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest Come taste the sunsweet berries of the Earth Come roll in all the riches all around you And for once, never wonder what they're worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers The heron and the otter are my friends And we are all connected to each other In a circle, in a hoop that never ends
How high will the sycamore grow? If you cut it down, then you'll never know And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper skinned We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains We need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the Earth and still All you'll own is Earth until You can paint with all the colors of the wind
Das Farbenspiel des Winds
Für dich bin ich nur eine Wilde. Es ist klar das du so denkst, denn du bist sehr viel gereist. Doch sehe ich nicht ein, wenn so wild ich dir erschein, wie kommt's das du so vieles gar nicht weißt? Gar nicht weißt?
Du landest hier und gleich gehört dir alles, das Land ist für dich frei und nur noch Holz. Doch jeder Stein und Baum und jedes Wesen, hat sein Leben, seine Seele, seinen Stolz.
Für dich sind echte Menschen nur die Menschen, die so denken und so aussehen wie du. Doch folge nur den Spuren eines Fremden, dann verstehst du und du lernst noch was dazu.
Kannst du hören wie der Wolf heult unterm Silbermond? Und weißt du auch, warum der Luchs so grinst? Kannst du singen wie die Stimmen in den Bergen? Kannst du malen wie das Farbenspiel des Winds? Kannst du malen wie das Farbenspiel des Winds?
Komm renn mit mir im Schattenlicht der Wälder, probier' die süßen Beeren dieser Welt. Komm wälze dich in ihrer reichen Vielfalt, und du merkst, dass im Leben dir nichts fehlt.
Der Regen und der Fluss sind meine Brüder, der Reiher und der Otter mein Geleit und jeder dreht sich mit und ist verbunden mit dem Sonnenrad, dem Ring der Ewigkeit.
Wie weit wachsen Bäume hinauf? Doch wenn du sie fällst, kriegst du's nie heraus.
Und vergessen sind die Wölfe und der Silbermond und dass wir alle ebenbürtig sind. Wir müssen singen wie die Stimmen in den Bergen, müssen malen wie das Farbenspiel des Winds.
Fremde Erde ist nur Fremd, wenn der Fremde sie nicht kennt, drum gehört sie nur ....
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