butterfly that sprouted from behind her shoulders harmoniously maintained her/it in that perfect equilibrium. After some I draft the figure from the thick red head of hair intenta in his/her own job it turned him of release revealing his/her identity to the guests. It was the girl of the pond. It began playfully reproaching Ivo.
"It seems yourself correct to disturb my concentration awkward giant?it " said, quadrating him/it with a false accusatory look for then to get up of sudden from his/her stool, launching the braccias to the neck of the big man and hoisting above himself/herself/itself to stamp a kiss on his cheek.
In the meantime the heart of Saint, from the moment in which you/he/she had acknowledged her presence, you/he/she had fluctuated in a sort of fainting. All inside his/her body seemed to have become liquid and the pulsations of its heart had become deafening thuds in its head. He didn't persuade at all him of the why he/she didn't succeed in having self-control in front of that girl anymore. The golden ch'ella emanated extremely the sconquassava. There was her a fundamental key that would have disclosed him the incongruous vicissitudes that overpowered him/it, of this by now it was almost certain. After a fast exchange of wisecracks with Ivo, the eyes of Sabrina seemed to realize only in that instant of the two guests that you/they assisted to that family sketch. Her lips stirred turning the question to both, but the eyes were fixed only on Saint.
"As it seems you our spellbound village? Do you know that soon it will touch you to tell us some you? Let's be all very curious ones to know from where come!"
Smiled Dafne her cordially but, although it was as soon as perceivable, its teeth were some too shut ones as those of whom stiffens in front of a probable avversaria.
"This place seems so much pure and at the same well organized as time that it doesn't almost seem me possible that are found on the Earth.
"Earth with the capital one or with the lower case letter? Only who doesn't have an attitude fundamentally addressed toward the good you/he/she can judge our utopian village. If you look yourself in the soul, sincerely, at the end truth is more to course of hand than you can think" he/she abruptly answered her, but without resentment, Sabrina.
Dafne remained enmeshed by the abrupt purity of the girl that set her of forehead an accusatory enigma; how could you/he/she ever know where Saint and she were ended? From one initial choice of his you/they were happened then facts what its most fervent imagination would not even have been able to ever foresee. He/she answered disdained, in the hope to understand how you/he/she had to see the girl, if an avversaria or an impulsive and exuberant youth too much.
"This seems a sentence taken by an essay of theosophy. Thrown so, of hit, in this context, you/he/she could be misunderstood. However I appreciate the fact that you want to share your existential discoveries with the others. You will see that, when you will learn the art of the comparison, your ideas will have daily lifeblood to draw from the minds of yours similar. To your age I made the same thing with the adults, then growing I have also learned to listen and to know, before speaking."
Smiled Sabrina her without lowering of a millimeter his/her fierce look.
"The people love to feel to be said by the books what they already know; sin, however, that this is not worth for what the other ones tell them. If a book discovers one secret of ours, it is a joy, if the secret realizes him another human being it is a tragedy. Yet behind a book there is always another human being, with the only difference that is in perennial disadvantage in our comparisons considering that we can judge his/her work, while he will ignore by circumstance operates him of his/her reader."
Dafne he stiffened offense. What was seemed her impulsiveness, it now identified her/it under to his/her true voice: insolence! Before you/he/she could answer, however, Prometeo intervened that in the meantime you/he/she had reached the group.
"The greatest limit of the human beings is to be above all mouth. When they will realize to everything have two ears and two eyes, they will listen and they will really look and they will finally meet the Spirit that is the eye of the universe. Ivo, thanks you for the time that you have devoted to our guests. You can now return quietly to devote you to what you have left in suspended."
Then, turning to Saint and Dafne, it said:
"And now, my darlings you entertain, we leave my daughter to his/her job. You/he/she has not gotten used to the presence of the extraneous and certain distractions, during his/her job, you/they could make her/it fall in coarse errors. It is surely a girl talentuosa, but you/he/she should be some most modest, considering that experience does him on the field, both in the job, and in the human relationships. It perhaps is not true, Sabrina?"
The nymph from the hair coppered him is darkened meanwhile, stricken in the alive one from that sermon that ingloriously his had cancelled "almost" victory on that woman that didn't tell you her correct. As it was possible that around her it didn't warn any aura? Thing did us with that man that, contrarily it had an immense energetic aura, almost palpable to tactile level. It was unbelievable that he didn't realize that deception despite the potentialities that shone from every pore of his/her body animico. Reluctant it folded up him to the series words of his/her/their father. It slightly lowered the head, and despite you/he/she had realized from his/her words that you/he/she was ordering her for transverse streets to apologize to Dafne, it limited him to say:
"You excuse, but I must return to my job."
The look of Prometeo was very eloquent. It was in anger because of the weary stubbornness of his/her/their daughter, that never mitigated his/her unbridled pride.
XIX
Prometeo had sat on a strong chair of oak whose arms finished with two heads of wolf stylized, you carefully carve from a skilled artisan. It was situated in the darkest angle in the kitchen of his/her characteristic residence on the tree. Saint and Dafne respectively sat one of side to the other, in front of two glasses of good brandy leaned on a big wood table ingot. The head of the village, after some chatter of routine respect to their characteristics houses, with assembled face and absorbed it reached therefore the of that convocation.
"Friends, or I hope better, is able I lend to start to use this appellative turning to you. But I know too much till now unfortunately few about your life to be able to be certain, that you consider me to you a friend. My people, in a handful of times, you/he/she has disclosed you the fundamental hinges of our existence. There are trusted despite your little initial clarity. It now touches to you to show us your trust in our comparisons."
Saint decided to open. Its smell revealed his deep wisdom of that thick middle aged man and, already once the to be confided with a wise man you/he/she had brought him in heart a blessed serenity. It was at that time surely the most sensible thing. Certainly, nothing was logical from what their paradoxical trip was initiated. It continually had the impression to be deceived, not only from the people that he/she met, but even from the same landscapes that surrounded him/it. The trees, the mountains, the sun and the air that filled him the bellows and it allowed him to give breath to its lucubrations, seemed even an immense colossal fraud. His/her most atrocious discomfort, that then was that more universal and human, the prophetic one to be or not to be, had to be really in not to know where he was really. It looked for hopelessly roots that connected him/it to his/her/their mother Earth, that you/they made him/it hear again a living being partecipe of the world. On those atavistic roots the immense tree of the conscience and the intuition held up him, so much tall to always have permission to Saint to breathe the sacred breeze of the divine tides, the Unio Mystica that conducted him/it anywhere with the full conscience of Itself. This whole chaotic orgy of uncertain cogitations they eradicated from his/her lips every possibility to describe with rational logic the events that had brought him/it in that place. The only clear intuition that its language could snatch was:
"I have lost myself."
Dafne seemed enormously upset by that affirmation of Saint. It lowered the look, nervously tightening the inferio
r lip among the incisive ones, and for a fraction of second it threw a fleeting look spaurito on the figure human session of forehead. Prometeo pretended not to notice that sudden dismay of Dafne, rather it seemed to launch her a smile of agreement. Its voice warmly painted the room, its tone was calm and soft but solemn and determined.
"Saint, will find here the solution to your anguish, you have only to stop looking for, and to look."
"Thing means?it " beat perplexed Saint.
"Not to try to read something of complicated in these words. The key is not hidden that can free you the mind. You have only to stop looking for, and to look. Only through the observation you/he/she can be realized us really the momentary reality that turns around us. I use the momentary adjective because, there obviously is not an only univocal reality. They exist endless, relative realities. Innumerable microcosms that flow parallel and they often weave him, and the apparent absolute independence of these monadis, in that breakers in which they tie him, it is refunded with the cosmic plain eternity of the Spirit, for then to make not riassopire in his/her depth Itself this pearl of truth as soon as it is closed again to hull in itself same. But this you already know him/it, I read