HYMN TO THE SUMMIT
A lassù look
Between clouds
That they are run after between the innevate tops
Lives
Far from the human touch
The wind that door via the sounds
And the water that come down to goes they
Sending invites it of the mountain to the tired spirit
The legs is prepared while
Strong hands accept the challenge
Hard work
Dreams
Fear
And joy that fill up the heart
While the night is approached
Knows and snow
Ice and cold
Grass and flowers
The prize of the summit
But then the metamorphosis catch up the apex here
And the mountain opens the heart to the happy spirit
While all its badly to scompare
In order to free the love
(of Luca Bettosini)
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