After this, I took private lessons in Italian from an elementary school teacher. He gave me themes to write about, and some of them turned out so well that he told me to publish them in a newspaper.

We later moved to Rome, where I am presently living.

I have also written some poems which have not been collected in a volume.

According to an ancient Sardinian legend, the bodies of those who are born on Christmas Eve will never dissolve into dust but are preserved until the end of time.

The feast lasted nine days, the last three becoming a continuous circle dance accompanied by songs and music. Noemi always stayed on the belvedere among the banquet remains. ... No, she didn't dance, she didn't laugh, but it was enough for her to see people enjoying themselves, because she too hoped to take part in the festival of life.

[...] e tutte le cose intorno ascoltavano sorprese che oltre il lieve mormorio degli alberi al vento altre voci esistessero.

E pareva giocasse nella notte morente, la luna, libera e sola nel deserto del cielo crepuscolare, sopra la terra ancora addormentata; e si nascondeva, e riappariva tra le fronde, e si specchiava nell'acqua destandovi mille sorrisi, compiacendosi a vedersi nuda, libera e sola.

Little by little they all gathered around him, entering through the cracks like moonbeams...[b]ut once the wind of misfortune blows, people disperse like little clouds around the moon when the wind blows off the mountains.