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…<<In a moonlit night, in the times of the legendary histories, a kind of canoe landed in a sandy corner of the Ionian coast. A man helping a graceful creature to fall in a small cove. The high cliffs around appeared to be slumbering sentinels. The beautiful princess of the East had been so carried into exile. Because he had loved a man against the will of his people. Then the sun. Still the night. Light and dark. As long as the sand where the sweet creature rested his foot grew a flower green petals. The flower of hope! Apart from the impossible love. Apart from the cruelty of the world. This meant in the time that he bought the mythical legend of the angle, then, the name of Pietragrande>>.

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