The poetry of decadence (2015)   Catania has a history of twenty-eight centuries, during which it lived under the Greek, Roman, Ostrogothic, Byzantine, Muslim, French and Spanish dominations, until its annexation to the Kingdom of Italy in 1860.  It was destroyed by catastrophic earthquakes and several volcanic eruptions from the neighbouring Mount Etna.  During its ancient history many lives have started here, many lives have passed, many have ended. The heart of the city is old and decadent, its narrowest, hidden streets are full of scars, like the face of an old man. In the deepest night you meet very few people, you don’t hear anyone speak, everything flow like a distant river. If you embrace the quiet you can hear whispers, they are the stories of the past, timeless poems of a city that falls but never dies.
       
     
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      The poetry of decadence (2015)   Catania has a history of twenty-eight centuries, during which it lived under the Greek, Roman, Ostrogothic, Byzantine, Muslim, French and Spanish dominations, until its annexation to the Kingdom of Italy in 1860.  It was destroyed by catastrophic earthquakes and several volcanic eruptions from the neighbouring Mount Etna.  During its ancient history many lives have started here, many lives have passed, many have ended. The heart of the city is old and decadent, its narrowest, hidden streets are full of scars, like the face of an old man. In the deepest night you meet very few people, you don’t hear anyone speak, everything flow like a distant river. If you embrace the quiet you can hear whispers, they are the stories of the past, timeless poems of a city that falls but never dies.
       
     

The poetry of decadence (2015)

Catania has a history of twenty-eight centuries, during which it lived under the Greek, Roman, Ostrogothic, Byzantine, Muslim, French and Spanish dominations, until its annexation to the Kingdom of Italy in 1860.
It was destroyed by catastrophic earthquakes and several volcanic eruptions from the neighbouring Mount Etna.
During its ancient history many lives have started here, many lives have passed, many have ended.
The heart of the city is old and decadent, its narrowest, hidden streets are full of scars, like the face of an old man.
In the deepest night you meet very few people, you don’t hear anyone speak, everything flow like a distant river.
If you embrace the quiet you can hear whispers, they are the stories of the past, timeless poems of a city that falls but never dies.

DSC_9330.jpg
       
     
DSC_9321.jpg
       
     
DSC_9333.jpg
       
     
DSC_9335.jpg
       
     
DSC_9337.jpg
       
     
DSC_9340.jpg
       
     
DSC_9342.jpg
       
     
DSC_9348.jpg
       
     
DSC_9358.jpg