Where the lake meets the quaint red roofs
Where the water is chill fresh despite intense July heat
Where cloud hangs as if tied atop mountain high
Is the imperious Lago di Garda  

As the Peler bounds relentless until it finds the Ora in fine fettle winning the day like the plume of a freshly boiled kettle

The windsurfers and kite surfers enter their domain only too willing to jump on the nature train

Take me there
Let my heart rule my head
Let it’s beauty win the day
Let Lago di Garda have the final say