In a sudden increase of miaivrery, between the evil, the good and the remedy, emerge the phantasm of a gesture of Love Absolute and desperate, inanimate and cold, there since so a long time.

The odor of the dew of the sky, takes me along, far from the audacity of the "happy-ends".

Lived unreality is the last of the virtues.

The promises of the gods, as many as stars of the skies, bewitched us.