Dear Friend World;
I am writing this letter, as if we were so far away, as if all us men, we need a council for a cure to our evil. Of course we do not need the doctor, yet we are sick. We feel ourselves in conflict, such as a picture when suddenly faded and not as long gone, but the way we lived. You give us you welcomed us as sons and unfortunate, he reveals unworthy guests. You give us so much, but we selfish, we want more, tell us about, but we do not listen, we lead the way, but we do not see it. Sure there crescesti my friend, like the best of fathers. But alas you do not accorgesti of those children unhealthy. So I see
Children humiliated by hunger and others with a gun in his hand, hurled against one another, weak men and enslaved people, who cultivate the mafia after sowing poverty talkative politicians who spread ignorance! And still, the wild polluting industries and their methods, atomic bombs and wars in the drawer all the time! So who cares about who lives and who will! that we care about you, oh world, and enjoy your wonderful being. So go ahead, go ahead but for whom? Illusion, but illusion for what? then if you realize that only those who are dishonest has its glory. Honesty is a virtue that alas, dear friend, now finds its home in very few people, especially when they enliven money. Certainly, for your absence alas, all will pay! So I leave you with some verses, delighting as a poet: "Sailor sad and lonely now I \\ on my sailboat, \\ and all eyes on the horizon \\ is alas, anguished thought \\" I understand my friend, that these might be my last words bitter, I'd leave to surrender. Not so! They are only realistically laid on our paper, man, because of so many beautiful things, there are as many bad. I firmly believe that one must have the courage to write the truth, the dense hard reality. There is a sea of \u200b\u200bcourse, but even gl'abissi ! Every man certainly has his keys, but the doors to open alas, are too numerous and unequal. Oh my friend! Now you ask us not to lose, the ability to look beyond, to overcome ignorance make us wise. I ask, of course, to be the foundation stone of a temple of hope and pragmatism, and not fall nell'infausto human relativism. But how can a man change another man, tell me friend? how? Who will hear the hoarse voice of a more deadly and like many others, like everyone else. Sure to "him", a single gesture, as the high Michelangelo imagined in other times, a new creation, however, as today we would like, who can change their men and their selfishness, and his ability to be evil: to respect and love everyone equally. In our hands
left so precious! Why? You're the only pearl, my friend, but we are worthy coffers? So I ask my friend, help us save, we will never recover from this disease, our soul, we will never change his defeat in the high victory? I know that in time you will answer me and I will wait patiently, for it certainly will give us new short-nymph, for a more conscious act.
If you ever read this letter, my friend, because
will still exist.
From all your people. Salvatore
Carvelli
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