This is the english version of my blog in catalan.
Welcome to my garden!

Wednesday, January 4, 2012





Any day a new year will come and it'll find us looking at the fire from the entrance of the cave where it all begins.

Where we begin to transform us into the legend that someone writes on pieces of invisible paper.

Where we begin to become the dream of a nomad who caress the wind with  his lashes.

Where we start to become the hope of someone who has no fear and knows he must leave the cave to start everything.

Any day will come a new year will find us inventing new words, changing the names of things that already exist, learning ancient languages ​​that only the fairies of fairy tales speak.

Any day will come a new year and we will not realize.
Because we'll change the clock for the compass.
Because we won't care about what time it's but where we must walk.

We will not miss anything because everything will be ours.

Sunday, December 11, 2011



Verona is the poetic version of our dreams.

It welcomes us with fog and rain, with lighted trees as fallen stars.

In Verona, little roses survive in cold public gardens, so many flowers, golden leaves of autumn, acorns ..

In Verona we look for cafes where we sit to watch people walking on the wet streets of dreams we dream when we arrive at Italy.

In Verona we share hot chocolate and some hours of kind and friendly conversation with mamasorriso.

In Verona Juliet is waiting for Romeo forever, the balcony, the house, the tomb ... Sweet Juliet that reminds me it's better to escape from impossible and suicide love. Always. Despite everything, Verona is still covering with beating hearts, in the Christmas markets, lights like tears that decorate the streets of the city, the smell of chestnuts, nougat, blue-eyed boys who forget weight out the bananas in the supermarket, sharing a wonderful conversation with Manuela, our lessons at Linguait, discovering books, reading poems of Erri de Luca, learning new words, remembering old words, looking for the sun and the landscape near the river, cypress, golden and dreamful landscape.

I'm going to stay a little bit here, near the Piazza delle Erbe, hat, gloves and coat, the raising moon, I'll fall asleep, coffee, we'll remember weight out the fruit in the supermarket PAM, Via dei mutilati, we'll decide new routes, discovering bridges, castles, tales ... I'm going to stay here a while longer...

Verona is the dreamful version of our poems.