Once upon a time, there was a poor man called Felipe. He lived in a very old town, on an invincible mountain, near an unfriendly river, under a burning sun. A scorpion bit a frog: a sad little frog.
Faust cheated a man: a weak young man.
On the top of the mountain, there was a cathedral, nearly touching the sky; beside the river, a frog was looking forward to seeing a miracle; under the water, good or bad intentions rested silently.
Ding-Dong
Dong-Ding
Dong-Ding
While the bells were telling legends, full of memories and wisdom, a man went into the cathedral and was astonished looking at a sculpture with his same face, body and hands.
He wanted to run away but was stuck… among saints and virgins, he was trapped… knelt in front of a kneeling statue, praying as the other one was doing, confronted with himself: he had turned into stone!
He wanted to run away but was stuck… among saints and virgins, he was trapped… knelt in front of a kneeling statue, praying as the other one was doing, confronted with himself: he had turned into stone!
Ding-Dong
Dong-Ding
Dong-Ding
He could remember the legend: a famous story, a popular tale. The tale of a man in love with a greedy woman, the tale of a thief so generous as to give his heart to her.
In the night, the spirit of him still flew, the same as five centuries ago, originating a possessed air which turned mad everyone. The man breathed deeply and felt a chill; he walked along the main street and found the high cathedral just at the end. Anne deserved the best.
In the night, the spirit of him still flew, the same as five centuries ago, originating a possessed air which turned mad everyone. The man breathed deeply and felt a chill; he walked along the main street and found the high cathedral just at the end. Anne deserved the best.
Ding-Dong
Dong-Ding
Dong-Ding
He had found her sad, with wet eyes and a contrite expression. Her lush mouth was acting as if she was to kiss or, perhaps, to eat the air. She wanted the jewel, he knew. Anne deserved the best.
The river flowed as usual, the scorpion could not cross and the frog was killed by a poisoning bite while trying to move the scorpion on its back: sad little frog that only wanted to help.
The river knew stories: “if the frog had ignored the scorpion, it would still be alive. Anyone has a destination but maybe you can fight your fate”.
The river flowed as usual, the scorpion could not cross and the frog was killed by a poisoning bite while trying to move the scorpion on its back: sad little frog that only wanted to help.
The river knew stories: “if the frog had ignored the scorpion, it would still be alive. Anyone has a destination but maybe you can fight your fate”.
Ding-Dong
Dong-Ding
Dong-Ding
The ruby had been on the high altar, blessing the centre of the silver cross, until the day that Felipe stole it. She had asked him for nothing but she had been longing for the jewel: “better around my neck than in that cross”.
Ding-Dong
Dong-Ding
Dong-Ding
Five centuries ago, in that ancient night, Felipe took the diamond for the most beautiful girl of the town. He wanted to make her happy. Was his intention good or bad?
Four centuries ago, Felipe wanted to give a present, even if he had to damn his soul for ever.
Three centuries ago, she waited for him, keen to start running away with the precious stone in her hands, willing to forget the lover, impatient to leave her past.
Two centuries ago, the river was flowing quickly and she was beside its bank burying her last treasure.
One century ago, the scorpion appeared in the sand. She was terrified and jumped back, falling into the water and drowning slowly.
Four centuries ago, Felipe wanted to give a present, even if he had to damn his soul for ever.
Three centuries ago, she waited for him, keen to start running away with the precious stone in her hands, willing to forget the lover, impatient to leave her past.
Two centuries ago, the river was flowing quickly and she was beside its bank burying her last treasure.
One century ago, the scorpion appeared in the sand. She was terrified and jumped back, falling into the water and drowning slowly.
The whirlpool was strong and cold.
The frog’s croak had a green rhythm.
The frog’s croak had a green rhythm.
The poor man, who was ashamed to steal the diamond, was all this time looking for her and seeing the corpse floating down the river, knelt and prayed. The frog saw the miracle, the scorpion saw it too. Felipe was changed into stone and moved, as a sculpture, to decorate the cathedral next day. He was not religious nor atheist, only a man in love. Anne deserved the best.
Anne is a young busy woman, living a bustling life. She has many brand-new things and any dreams. She wants John’s flesh and blood.
Anne is a young busy woman, living a bustling life. She has many brand-new things and any dreams. She wants John’s flesh and blood.
Faust meets his own soul in every corner.
He has many masks and colours.
John has just sold his life to a future that he does not like, among people that he does not understand, on the top of an invincible mountain.
He is a “nobody”, the same as the other one was, kneeling in front of the high altar, praying to the silver cross. Felipe’ sculpture is opposite him, behind the altar and the missing ruby, as the reflection of an invisible slight holy mirror, made of stolen images, beyond a nightmare.
He has many masks and colours.
John has just sold his life to a future that he does not like, among people that he does not understand, on the top of an invincible mountain.
He is a “nobody”, the same as the other one was, kneeling in front of the high altar, praying to the silver cross. Felipe’ sculpture is opposite him, behind the altar and the missing ruby, as the reflection of an invisible slight holy mirror, made of stolen images, beyond a nightmare.
A scorpion bit a frog: a sad little frog.
Faust cheated a man: a weak young man.
Faust cheated a man: a weak young man.
Their weak eyes were knocking… The old town was begging for a prayer, the slighting river was singing its lilt: the past and John was trapped in a very brilliant cathedral as shadows of their own essence, the essence of slight times.
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