BluePrussia by Maurizio Puglisi

“Certo che ti farò del male.  Certo che me ne farai.  Certo che ce ne faremo.  Ma questa è la condizione stessa dell’esistenza. Farsi primavera, significa accettare il rischio dell’inverno.  Farsi presenza, significa accettare il rischio dell’assenza…”  Il Piccolo Principe (Antoine de Saint-Exupèry) Bruno Lauzi - Ritornerai - Live @RSI 1979  

A time for us  from Romeo and Juliet 1968 Franzo Zeffirelli A time for us, some day there'll be When chains are torn by courage born of a love that's free A time when dreams so long denied Can flourish as we unveil the love we now must hide A time for us, at last to see A life worthwhile for you and me And with our love, through tears and thorns We will endure as we pass surely through every storm A time for us, some day there'll be a new world A world of shining hope for you and me For you and me And with our love, through tears and thorns We will endure as we pass surely through every storm A time for us, some day there'll be a new world A world of shining hope for you and me A world of shining hope for you and me written by: EDWARD SNYDER, LAWRENCE KUSIK, NINO ROTA Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

Something What Women Don’t Say (2019)  Oil painting by Maurizio Puglisi         Something What Women Don’t Say Some love letters make the company for us. Words which remain with us And we don’t go away But hide from the pain Which slipps off but we will feel it later. We have too much fantasy and we tell a lie, It is only for lake of the truth Which sooner or later will happen. The wind changes but not we. And even if we transform a bit, It is only for wish to like to someone who is already Or can appear to be with us. We are like this. It is difficult to explain. Some bitter days, let it. You will be able to find us here. With our sleepless nights But we will never be tired even when We will tell you the next “yes”. Endless days fly away in a hurry And the truth becomes so familiar. Our child’s frases leave a trace Which return but who will hear them?… The compliments of playboys are falling on us Out of the cars But we don’t hear t...