THE WORLD'S WANDERERS

Tell me, thou Star, whose wings of light

Speed thee in thy fiery flight,

In what cavern of the night

Will thy pinions close now?

Tell me, Moon, thou pale and gray

Pilgrim of Heaven's homeless way,

In what depth of night or day

Seekest thou repose now?

Weary Wind, who wanderest

Like the world's rejected guest,

Hast thout still some secret nest

On the tree billow?

P.B. Shelley

le foto dopo tre mesi le cancello, tolto gli archetipi...