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In Sicily, the largest Greek necropolis. - It could be the largest ever discovered in necropolis Hellenic Sicily. Himera excavations in the area, to port of Termini Imerese, have identified several hundred burials, but scholars estimate that the tombs to bring to light are at least 10-12 thousand. go back to a period between the sixth and fifth centuries BC, and they are surfacing not only remains rights in great quantity, but also a huge funeral. Himera The flat was the scene of two bloody battles: one in 480 and the other in 409 BC, when the allied Greek city of Syracuse was destroyed by the Carthaginian Hannibal. Many, At least one third of the burials of infants: the bodies placed in jars venivavno kit with various items. Most curious are the bottles of more than 2500 years ago, small terracotta pots with spouts-feeding bottles.

(Il Resto del Carlino 11/12/2008)

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Egypt, discovered the pyramid n ° 118

"CAIRO - We arrived in 118 fee! Many would have built the pyramids in Egypt, at least those discovered to date, says the "Pharaoh" Egyptian archeology, Zahi Hawass, who presented the most recent discovery at Saqqara of his team: the bse of a small pyramid that contains the grave of the mother of King Teti Sheshet. It was a few hundred meters from the historic grave steps, the first of those built in Egypt, linked to the pharaoh Zoser. Hawass said he was 14 meters high, for the work of predators and weather, while the side of the base is still 22 meters. Thetis came to the throne at a time of great conflict and succeeded thanks to the skill and the intrigues of his mother Sheshet.

(Il Resto del Carlino - 12/11/2008)

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12 km from Troyes the historic capital of the Champagne region, 20 kilometers of the ancient abbey of Heloise and Abelard, not far from the lakes of the forest of the East, the Commander and the Abbey of Avalleur Claivaux are Payns. Place the founder of the Knights Templar .
for visits: by month May to September, the first Sunday of each month from 15 to 28 or by appointment: 0033 3 25 76 61 54

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You and me

From my lips to your

collect

sighs with her eyes half closed,

pass my love on you.

And the desire for you does not fade

between the long endless days

but gets stronger every day

to heights unattainable for me.

dispel the illusion that each day is equal

the previous and next ..

Let

believe that our love is unique

that is beyond the fate that we can not choose.

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I hate you damn words,

locked inside me,

unable to fly

unable to express ..

're like a rose without scent, and you will

to rot in the dark until you find the way to

to rnare to join me.

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JEAN MARKAL, a specialist in Celtic mythology, died Nov. 24, 2008 in Auray / Morbihan (France) At the age of 80 years. Report the news of his death the newspaper "Le Figaro" of 25/11/2008.
For those who do not know him: "He got this nickname from King Mark of Celtic mythology. His real name was Jacques Bertrand. Civilizations Celtic were the passion of his way, in fact, neither has devoted his entire life writing no less of 102 texts. He was particularly attracted by the figure of King Arthur by publishing "The cycle of the Grail" by of eight books.
has written accounts and legends of the Celtic countries, Vercintorige, druids, a small encyclopedia of the Grail. Jean Markal was also interested in esoteric subjects such as dealing with the Cathars, the Templars, The Devil's gold of Rennes-le-Chateau. With his passion was open to a wider public interest in these subjects.
L0autore was born in 1928, to parents of Brittany, in the forest of Brocéliande, the birthplace of the myth of the Round Table.
Well, so is best understood his quest, that of the Grail.

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PIETRO DA BOLOGNA, MAYBE A YELLOW SOLVED

article published by Il Resto del Carlino 27.11.2008

were students together in classrooms dell'Alma Mater. Rinaldo da Concorezzo, the future archbishop of Ravenna, Dante Alighieri, Bertrand de Got, that would ascend the throne of Peter with the name of Clement V and Peter of Bologna, brother chaplain law specialist, Knight Templar.
The crucial period is the beginning of the fourteenth century Italy and Europe as they ignite the fires of knights who defended the Holy Sepulchre, accused of heresy and dispossessed of all property, according to the will of the pope, precisely Clemente V, and especially of the French King Philip the Fair.
The thread of a story is just amazing and obscure Peter of Bologna, one of four prosecutors that the 560 knights of the Order shall appoint as counsel to the process of Paris in 1310. And disappears into thin air on the night between 17 and 18 May of that year.

I believe that Peter will be saved, says Giampiero Bagni, 36, archaeologist and historical researcher, and have returned to Bologna, where the local processes taking place under the protection of the Knights Templar, discreet and effective, the archbishop of Ravenna culminated with the absolution of the Templars Bologna.
among whom there was a certain Peter of Monte Acuto. The tracks are thin, but solid. Bathrooms And Giampiero has followed tenaciously for three years, resulting in a booklet, precise details and nice, entitled Pietro da Bologna, the defender of the Templars. Published by Bononia University Press following Peter's archives between Ravenna and Bologna, acts of trials with lists of the knights, the steps of the seizures.

The conclusion is unpublished. I believe, says Bagni, which Pietro da Bologna, gone miserably from prison in Paris in May 1310 is the same Peter of Monte Acuto this year after the provincial council, which appears as preceptor of the Knights Templar to Bologna and Modena, and that is the himself mentioned in a document of 1616 dall'Alidosi like Peter Roda, who becomes a Knight of Malta, died in 13429 and is buried in the cemetery of Strada Maggiore.

article by Martina Spagnoli

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The small flower and its wonderful for me dew

There was once a little flower

... (Each story begins with respectable once upon a time ... ..
because the time I believe we need to put
things quite far from us to understand them) ...

I said ..

There was once a small flower,
snow-white bouquet.

This small flower loved waking
early to enjoy the freshness of morning dew.
He considered her little miracle, and she loved the idea of \u200b\u200bfalling asleep at night
with the knowledge to awaken the morning after the first hardened by the sun and refreshed by the dew.

His first thought in the morning and last evening was completely devoted to this.
At its purest dew that magic was there no questions asked, simply.

loved Flush small drops from the extremes of the petals to the cornea to create a small lake
for a few seconds, then gently slide down the shaft to reach the leaves.

Start your day in this way gave him the strength to face the daily hustle and bustle: butterflies of passage, simply weary travelers seeking rest or ready-pollinating bees.

Days went by and the little flower was still thrilled to see the beauty of that simple life.

Time passed and the beautiful spring followed by a sultry summer.
In the days when the heat was excessive, the small flower vanish sees its own miracle.
Everything seemed bigger, heavier and unsustainable. The dew was gone and everything seemed lost. Then they returned to cooler days and the dew came back as a promise of life.

The little flower that she thought the end was expected, would have to wait and enjoy even more of the day in which there was his beautiful dew.

passed quickly in the autumn, and winter came around and everything became white.
the little flower had only to the cornea as a watchful eye on little fog.
The days were long to pass strascorsi happy awakening and the last hardly be counted.
were moments of real despair. As if he had been by crossing each landmark.
He called loudly, shouting into the void his pain. He could not understand what he could do because he was there with him had never asked why he was there and how to keep it with you.
asked each bee, fly or anyone passing by. No one could tell him anything.
The small flower attached to the living memories of his beautiful dew
and just when everything seemed lost, a morning dew returned.

The small flower jealously retained the lessons learned in that long winter, he realized that there are times when you can not do anything but sit around waiting with confidence in the heart because if it is well placed, sooner or later something will happen.

Valu

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Thought No. 1

thoughts to myself.

For me, that I know are salt, and I want to be



sea and that I would just stand and watch
without feeling anything.

I should find the boundary between what is

and
that exists.

between what can not be
and what does not make sense to happen.

thoughts to myself.

"from the outside I look like fish trapped in a network of transit"

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second day of winter

A hood over the city.

Sometimes the fog knows to be gentle, be merciful
knows ..
is able to hide the dark mood
dissolving the troubles of the soul.

I sink my thoughts in a lake of fog, miss me, miss everything.
forget everything ...

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first real day of winter. Pixar Studio Presto Full

first real day of winter.
From the windows a thin mist envelops houses, roads .. everything seems muffled.
The sky looks like a frozen lake. is impenetrable and the light is harsh in my eyes. I can not even trying to abandon the dreamy look for more than a minute.

My mind welcomes the winter crop in front of a fireplace.

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Your dreams watery eyes,
while suspended between imagination and reality
leave you soothed by thoughts that
while you caress
I can not grasp.

I could spend hours watching them sleep,
and my eyes bright with emotion,
can only be surprised if
suddenly
caught who knows what feelings, yawn your

to my world, in a pointed smile.

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wake up one day like so many of Munch's Madonna




A complicated day dissolves between the notes of the last mail, while the projects in my mind what remains of it now.

our spending, our dinner, our house, we do nothing. Many want to live

what we have.

unlikely many could live like we do.

so special and so simple at the same time.

Should I learn every day to hear it for what it is: a wonderful gift.

Valu

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" contort love lost pleasure in knowing that every my action, if caught, will be able to unleash wicked thoughts ".

is not
anxiety and even less of mere instinct.


The mystery is contained in the voluptuousness of form,
is all hidden in the air of one who lascivious

just waiting to be discovered.

is like feeling pure allusion
intracciata a dream fabric.

As if some desires can be satisfied only abandoning oneself and discovering another way to find each other.

Valu

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My memories

I recall, all the words


left to stand in a corner.


deserve to find a decent place, where you can take


enough air to reach Thee.

seems like yesterday.

I was walking with his eyes

immersed in conflicting colors.
Forti.
then I was already changed,
and you were too far from
matching
amorous feelings between me and the world
turned around.

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Thought No. 1

"does not even feel like our way"
"is the fault of the fog"

risk losing.

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What I write now that everything makes sense, now that I think I can

look with honest eyes and pure
the flow of events?

A peace of mind that
difficilmento
I never believed it possible to
does not seem to get water but rather a nice placid

sway which makes me smile

of entertainment and transportation.

If I was to speak now of
me, indirectly, as I always did
..
I could give you only the image of the inflated balloon
love
is lulled by the wind,
light light light ...

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amid clouds of heartbeats
sway my thoughts
as cradled by your hands.

I get lost in the intertwining of your
fingers, trying to compredere
thoughts that take you v ia.

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I think of you before going to sleep watching the sun
place to the evening
in this land far from home
away from you that you're my home

wherever you are you are my soul you are a field of melancholy

when you are not a field of six


sweet fruits when you're here with me peasant heart
cost me my joy sweat
I love you and I run away in the distance measure of how much I love is planet
each trip away from you're the king I
meta magio you comet ...
I have to turn away to see the whole
I have to pretend that are not there to find out that you are true lady of the hotel this evening
cooked potatoes
how do you roast
a bit 'crunchy outside and soft in the heart
just like you do ...
eating eat just like you like you are a communion and ran away because I can not breathe
too love love love love love ...
word seen from far away makes me feel a penitent pilgrim
half a knight-errant deficient
I love you and I run away in the distance measure of how much I love is planet
each trip away from you're the king I
meta magio you comet

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Cat obsessed: D


Ladies and gentlement,

directly from Meira tranzolla I present "the cat man possessed." .

Yeah I know .. I have to be seen by a doctor, nor!

soon!
Valu

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the lake of my thoughts in your eyes

I wish I could photograph
beyond the memory
clear picture of your eyes
I look.

Inside them I see the reflection of my

be fragile and lost,
in front of your eyes.

Disarmed dinnazi
to feelings so strong that they must be
pad for
able to support them.

Simply Valu,
in the hope that between us
is beyond the magic

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Thoughts

Although it is within our power to fondle with his eyes on the horizon, are unlikely to embrace the same universe. To grasp the essence in spite of the curious eye and pitiless as the delay time, roads, buildings, cities and individuals.

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Progress: P

I just finished the first phase of destruction of the blog ... What can I say I had itchy hands ... : D is not definitive and above there is a high probability that taken by the discomfort tomorrow restores the old version .. We'll see. The night give advice, we hope ... Anyway

email from your couch with a warm blanket on doctor is priceless ...

Sweet dreams
iValue

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on the words flow out of office

I've written words in these times of prolonged absence.
I kept all these words to me,
hidden between applications on my iphone.

take notes, write notes that do not resonate.

words grab birds more than the thought that sometimes you used.

to add. I'm back?

Who knows.

I did a mix of emotions in these summer months
difficult to hold with one heart.

is like when you look at me and smile at me and
bursts into a festival of senses.

Too many emotions to hold with one heart.

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Here I am,

again absorbed in trying to explain the feelings that I can not understand.

Tomorrow we return to Palermo, after months of absence. Tomorrow is back .. as if for the first time.
at this time potentially happy, I'm overwhelmed by fatigue.
My mind has already set up out of office for a while. All very hectic, fast .. often inexplicable. I could call myself thoughtfully. Often absent. I paused, paused from what surrounds me. I do not want to deepen Quesi feelings, I hope that dissolve quickly .. and waiting ..

a thought comes off and flies away from me ...

Valu

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... came from the furthest extremes of life, this is amazing,
think that would ever touched, if not from head to foot through the universe,
and instead were caused not even try, this is cool,
and everything was just hard to recognize, recognize, something of a moment,
the first look and already knew, this is wonderful
- this would continue to tell, forever, in the lands of Carewall,
because no one can forget that you're never far enough to come by,
ever - far enough - to be - they were these two, far more than anyone else ...

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- Words in the wind
I see them fly away
and touching you.

Look elsewhere.

- I tonarno
back like a boomerang
blinding.


're too far away and I can not find the strength
to reach you.

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The Imperfect Flower

My soul cries want
just whispered to you.

I observe them while writhing
in a corner like a junkie in search of a
dose.

In the shadows, crouched
the drum
barefoot on the floor, hiding the tears
between his legs.

Ready to raise the face

soon receive your attention.

Ready to thrill you and rubbing
like cats prey
to purr.

Forgive heart
not know the words to
express the
My Love.
From my hand, not

think there is anything I can from afar
think to forgive you.

I think it's late,
and I just want to suppress

those souls in torment that fill my mind as

a guest uncomfortable,
forced to leave.

I desire to be loved, for the flower that are imperfect.