stops buried in devotions, perhaps the last, the journey in the eighteenth century between Lucca and the Era began many years ago, just because Charles (Welcome) is still with us in front of the wall of the ground with the legs of rooster Gello initialed and the discharge of the kiln of the potter for his poor customer campaign pulled down flowers green and red, not (yet) the flowers of the frncese Levantino, or flowers for the tiles of the lords of the city.
Flowers and leaves of countless services for the poor of St. Francis and the Franciscans of Lucca, the flowers of the rosary in the death, the archaeologist who look reality in the images of the painters of the eighteenth century colors that are missing, the bonds of meat and perishable matter (sic ) between what the land preserved. Not the color of meat and fish, but at least those of pots and flasks ... and the trip made stops in the walled tombs of Lucca and San Martino in Colle, landfills bones of the poor lazzeri Soiana, then back to the Era, continues, continues, as the stories go on the land even if the archaeologist says who arrived at the turn of the twentieth century and found signs of life in the land of his grandparents feel the weight of more days.
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