And then went down to the ship,
Set keel to breakers, forth on the godly sea, and
We set up mast and sail on that swart ship,
Bore sheep aboard her, and our bodies also
Heavy with weeping, and winds from sternward
Bore us onward with bellying canvas,
Crice’s this craft, the trim-coifed goddess.
Then sat we amidships, wind jamming the tiller,
Thus with stretched sail, we went over sea till day’s end.
Sun to his slumber, shadows o’er all the ocean,
Came we then to the bounds of deepest water,
To the Kimmerian lands, and peopled cities
Covered with close-webbed mist, unpierced ever
With glitter of sun-rays
Nor with stars stretched, nor looking back from heaven
Swartest night stretched over wreteched men there.
The ocean flowing backward, came we then to the place
Aforesaid by Circe.
Here did they rites, Perimedes and Eurylochus,
And drawing sword from my hip
I dug the ell-square pitkin;
Poured we libations unto each the dead,
First mead and then sweet wine, water mixed with white flour
Then prayed I many a prayer to the sickly death’s-heads;
As set in Ithaca, sterile bulls of the best
For sacrifice, heaping the pyre with goods,
A sheep to Tiresias only, black and a bell-sheep.
Dark blood flowed in the fosse,
Souls out of Erebus, cadaverous dead, of brides
Of youths and of the old who had borne much;
Souls stained with recent tears, girls tender,
Men many, mauled with bronze lance heads,
Battle spoil, bearing yet dreory arms,
These many crowded about me; with shouting,
Pallor upon me, cried to my men for more beasts;
Slaughtered the herds, sheep slain of bronze;
Poured ointment, cried to the gods,
To Pluto the strong, and praised Proserpine;
Unsheathed the narrow sword,
I sat to keep off the impetuous impotent dead,
Till I should hear Tiresias.
But first Elpenor came, our friend Elpenor,
Unburied, cast on the wide earth,
Limbs that we left in the house of Circe,
Unwept, unwrapped in the sepulchre, since toils urged other.
Pitiful spirit. And I cried in hurried speech:
“Elpenor, how art thou come to this dark coast?
“Cam’st thou afoot, outstripping ******?”
        And he in heavy speech:
“Ill fate and abundant wine. I slept in Crice’s ingle.
“Going down the long ladder unguarded,
“I fell against the buttress,
“Shattered the nape-nerve, the soul sought Avernus.
“But thou, O King, I bid remember me, unwept, unburied,
“Heap up mine arms, be tomb by sea-bord, and inscribed:
“A man of no fortune, and with a name to come.
“And set my oar up, that I swung mid fellows.”

And Anticlea came, whom I beat off, and then Tiresias Theban,
Holding his golden wand, knew me, and spoke first:
“A second time? why? man of ill star,
“Facing the sunless dead and this joyless region?
“Stand from the fosse, leave me my ****** bever
“For soothsay.”
        And I stepped back,
And he strong with the blood, said then: “Odysseus
“Shalt return through spiteful Neptune, over dark seas,
“Lose all companions.” Then Anticlea came.
Lie quiet Divus. I mean, that is Andreas Divus,
In officina Wecheli, 1538, out of Homer.
And he sailed, by Sirens and thence outwards and away
And unto Crice.
        Venerandam,
In the Cretan’s phrase, with the golden crown, Aphrodite,
Cypri munimenta sortita est, mirthful, oricalchi, with golden
Girdle and breat bands, thou with dark eyelids
Bearing the golden bough of Argicidia. So that:

If Memnon's mother mourned, Achilles's mother mourned,
and our sad fates can touch great goddesses,
then weep, and loose your hair in grief you never earned,
Elegy, now ah! too much like your name.
That bard whose work was yours, who gave you fame, Tibullus,
burns on the mounded pyre, a lifeless corpse.
See Venus's boy, bearing his quiver upside down;
his bow is broken and his torch is quenched;
look how he goes dejected: his wings trail on the ground;
he smites his naked breast with violent hand;
his tears dampen the curls that fall around his neck,
and heaving sobs keep breaking on his lips.
(Just so he went out, fair Iulus, from your house,
they say, at his brother Aeneas's funeral.)
No less was Venus stunned by her Tibullus's death
than when the fierce boar smote her lover's thigh.
They say we bards are sacred, favorites of the gods,
and even that there's something holy in us,
but that churl Death defiles every sacred thing:
his shadowy hand appropriates us all.
Was Orpheus saved by his father and mother, who were gods,
or by his songs that tamed the astonished beasts?
They say that that same father sang 'Linos! Ai, Linos! '
deep in the woods on his reluctant lyre.
And Homer, too, from whom, as from an endless fount,
bards' lips are moistened with the Muses' waters,
one last day pulled him under Avernus's murky wave:
his songs alone escaped the greedy pyre.
The work of bards endures: Troy's famous sufferings,
and the endless shroud, undone by nightly fraud.
So Nemesis and Delia: both their names will live,
the one his first, the one his latest love.
But what use now your rites? What use the Egyptian rattle?
What use, to have slept alone in an empty bed?
When harsh fate steals away the good (forgive my words!)
I almost want to believe there are no gods.
Live virtuous: you will die. Respect the gods: grim Death
will drag you from their altars to your grave.
Write glorious verse, and see! here Tibullus lies:
one small urn holds the dust of what he was.
Is it you the blazing pyre bears off, O sacred bard,
not dreading to be fed upon your breast?
Flames that dare so great a blasphemy would burn
the golden temples of the blessed gods!
She turned aside her gaze who rules Mt. Eryx's heights,
and some say she could not restrain her tears.
And yet it's better thus than if Phaeacia's land
had strewn mere dirt on your neglected grave.
Here, as you fled life, your mother closed your streaming
eyes, and brought her last gifts to your ashes.
Here your sister joined your mother in her grief
and came with loosened hair all disarrayed.
And with their kisses Nemesis and your first love
joined theirs, and did not leave your pyre forsaken,
and Delia, as she left, said, 'Happier far your love
for me: you lived, while I was still your flame.'
'Why, ' Nemesis replied, 'do you grieve for my loss?
Dying, he clutched me with his failing hand.'
If anything remains of us but name and shade,
Elysium's vale will be Tibullus's home,
and you will greet him, learned Catullus, ivy bound
on your young brow, with Calvus at your side,
and you (if it is false that you betrayed your friend)
Gallus, careless of your blood and soul.
These shades will be your comrades, if any shades there are:
you have joined the blessed, elegant Tibullus.
May your bones find repose within their sheltering urn,
and may earth not lie heavy on your ashes.

Like glass bottles kiss the pavement,

The Kωκυτός (Cocytus) and
The Ἀχέρων (Acheron) broke
around the stone I stood upon.
A mephitic fog enveloped me as
I left, it urged me to forget myself.
I ran from the mists of oblivion and
afterwards I swore an oath on the Styx,

Reminding me to let life
get under my skin and run
through my cavernous veins,

Few are the days allotted us
On youth's resplendent heights
For soon we fall, and fall we must
From innocence, to hellish plights

From morn to noon I fell,
Alas! From noon to dewy eve
  And still do I perceive
Descent towards stygian abyss;
                             I grieve
For days bygone and edifice which,
   with Daedalic splendor
I wrought in primal hours
   To this past, I now surrender

With childhood's cherub wings thus shorn
From Avernus cold, my prayers are Bourne
With broken lips, towards skies azure
The myriad gods I do implore

Uplift this loathsome imitation!
Coal-eyed creature of negation
Wont to build a heaven in hell
This torpid fate I must repel!

Chapter v
Brisehal abhors the Desert

For the desolate Dasht-e-Lut. After Brisehal bellowed being from the deserted sites of contemplation he was emerging from his great mountain of empty desert. The ghosts abounded wandering alone as if wanting to take hold of the last sparks of politics that they had left to surrender from their own lost solitude. Brisehal was a canine-headed mountain similar to Anubis, but millions of times larger and more acidic, like the hope of some parishioners to enter the garden-kingdom of Heaven!. Before the day trembled with the movement of his trembling footsteps, Brisehal spent two years moving day and night. When it roared, smaller mountainous areas were liquidated with the greatest effect of their spinning forces. They were immense thunderclaps that even scrubbed up to the spheroid clouds reddened by their rising. He turned from left to right as if wanting to exile the Desert of Lut, like casing his pro generation by bundles of optical rope or high-density fiber, which could cohabit with Vernarth in his odyssey of the Horcondising (Vernarth lineage paradise to Gaugamela) .

Before beginning the chant of his ultra-low thunder of Trumpets and armor of courage without break.  Any protocol is dissipated to inaugurate in the stands of the Iranian war-educational Sky and aesthetic drama, the analogous city in the extreme north in Irna; Located in the Talesh Mountains, just 50 km from Rasht, there is a small paradise surrounded by beauty: the city of Masal. It is with the force of his traction that he drags thousands of prayers and litanies in chains through the underground near Las Acacias where unscathed heroes have died embracing them, as the cold snowy cloak of Horcondising usually supplies, to those who dream that he will redeem the ignorance of not knowing how to be reborn next to the fallen and raised trunks, scattered and destroyed by the predatory shrew of yesteryear.

In genealogical peduncle rows of the Mandragora extension they marked the ship without an unbroken ****** sea, those who blow through their burdensome ear line up before encircling them with their smiles to swallow napkins of Hawthorn and Acacia early: (essences that their nose always vomited, to later recover them)
This is how his ancestors appear accompanying him to preserve his adventures and adventures:

"Amada y Amador, Arturo and Adelina, Bernardino and Baldomero, Cándida and Cesarina, Delfina and Dolores, Esperanza and Eulalia, Francisco and Felo, Gumercindo and Gilberto, Hilarión and Hugo, Isabel and Julio, Joaquina and Juan Bautista, Lastenia and Luidiana, Lidia and Melania, Mariano and Miguel, Nicolasa and Natalia, Pascuala and Pastora and Rosa, Agapito and Ascanio, Getulio and Leocadio, Tancredo and Tranquilino, Zacarías and Zenón ”. All his ancestors settled in the Horcondising Castle to observe his cereal sandwich that he gladly took to his mouth, and movia and arms and elbows clearing the lily vines and ivies of the
Below the branches,  Joshua de Piedra and Bernardolipo. The horns sounded in symmetrical filial genetics under the same hollow empty mausoleum.

Brisehal, confused by not getting along with Vernarth, decides to walk and approach him. Its size was millions of times larger in proportion to its little finger. Try walking on confused sides, broken geographical areas and undulating corridors of the Redemptive Pass of the Christ of Lisbon, or going straight or through the center, leaning to the left.  Until she finally looks at him and manages to retain her figure surrounded by several golden rings. He was on his back and in his ventral decubitus, creating love affairs even on the mid-morning dew grass. He managed to see him in his parapsychological regression, to support his hypnosis in the still unexplored states of his Consciousness as a toddler through the Fields of Macedonia and at night through the fields of Sudpichi, on the banks of the Horcondising neighing a glass full of Chupilca for not being less.

Brisehal was in the worst halite of the super distillate saying:
Heal me even if I am not. Heal me even if my head fails to receive you, nor my heart can reconcile you, heal me even though my longings can continue with you rolling around the world with my whole body in the midst of subversive political currents and social doctrines, rumbling falling all the divisions that separate us , even the outer walls of the farthest reaches of our separate and to be separated stocks. I will go with you until the end of this long journey, I will take your feet when they hesitate to continue and I will move your frozen head from the stocks and tricks to catch those you leave with glasses full, even with the Chacolí, who makes us go in circles through places without garment or bait through the desert where the thirtieth final Oasis awaits us ”after leaving it lying with the ivy roots of the Rio Bumodos, and by all the points of its body open to discontinue with this regression, it meets the twentieth oasis.

Twentieth Oasis next to Tel Gómel:
In the well-known art of the Afro-Asian belt of the Persian zones, of deserts that extend by hydrographic basins, it transports us to its second regression along the Bumodos River. Here with roots of 60 lures will be shed by 60 centimeters from your oasis soil. Here Vernarth will remain encapsulated from his roots of lush attire from years to years entering his veins.
Diplomacy is unleashed in Ecbatana, close to the encyclopedic collision, the shelves throb, distorting the story lines more than a paragraph inflamed by their own saffron sheets of tradition written in fornited papyrus. It has also been mentioned in the Bible by its Aramaic name Acmeta. According to Herodotus and The Biblical Oral Source.

At more than 15,000 kilometers in the Castle of Horcondising;  Her mother Luccica enters, taking the lace from her dress, to go up the northern balcony saying:
Luccica: What time can I see you, my beloved Vernarth, now that your life has been cut before the harvest. Black garlands progress along the edges of the swinging of the curtains of obscurantism…. !!
Then Luccica gets up. She goes to observe the walls of Adarve, to approach the guard and ask her if she had left the window half open. The guard moves away from the loophole and responds:
Guard: My lady, our prince Vernarth, left the Crusades for Tel Gomel. And I doubt that her absence has styled the hinges of the disheartened gate by the joy of feeling her voice proclaiming life where nothing has lived any species,  nor death where no one wants to inhabit it.

Bernardolipo, your spouse enters: do not doubt that you have well exercised the straps of the barbican interwoven with grates of poisoned ivy with the life of pagan serpents. But what else has to happen if our Vernarth forged the Rake with his burned hands, and still remains intact for anyone who tries to overcome it. Oh duel of Avernus without bosses to defend their Aras!

Guard replies:  It has been conceived through the corridors of arms, that your son is in TeL Gómel, on the magical sides of the Bumodos River. He is surrounded by people who love him. He rides stretched out on a white steed, with a white flame, with hooves of Fire…, Alikanto greater fever for elder fever in midnight of the witches who frighten the Mandragora.

The regression continues towards the region of Gaugamela, hearing with his breastplate on his sleep the distant tales of his parents in the Horcondising castle. He walks on the dry and discolored leaves, on the docile rods that hung over his veins, hydrating with magical liquids his body asleep in Bumodos and his accomplices. Every time he walked on this tube that was tubed through skies and beautiful places, he had to approach to inject the young elder wands with slopes of Bumodos concoctions, before eating and drinking delicious meals.Together with their diocesan comrades with wine.

This bacchanal episode has to do with a love story. Rather it mixes love, passion, madness and death.Or almost death. Persian legend tells that from the seeds that a bird dropped at the feet of King Djemchid (Yemshid), plants were born that bore abundant fruit, the fermented juice of which was drunk by the king's favorite. The woman fell asleep soundly under the relaxing effects of the drink, and when she woke up she felt healed and flushed, and also happy. Then the king named the wine Darou é Shah (daru eshjá), "the King's remedy." Almost with the second degree beer, he replied before Shamash Sumerio with his celestial oscillations, to approach the Philistines hand in hand to keep them intoxicated rather than healthy.Brightly and lights of the green candle in her tabernacle ... beyond the Sumeria table.

Vernarth says: Take out the table, take it out. I want to continue lying on the wild plasma floor of Bumodos. I need my odalisque Valekiria to bring ***** and elderberry to unleash the kidnapping of myself, for not wanting to be assisted nor for the greatest fear I have ever felt. This echoes in Horcondising in the ears of his mother who was in the battlement just a few minutes from sending her eagles.

Luccica says:With what number of molten bronze and burnished copper gag, I will polish your flabby regret for not being with us. Son I know that you will give your life in Gaugamela. I know that your strength is not mine or your father's. That Etrestles your brother will be in the biggest puffy nimbus clouds of the sacrosanct oracle. Pastoral flutes will take my basket to your store, loaded with goat cheese, grass bread with balsamic Palo Santo. "May the Nile Cobra not get dark your fiercely wounded Brisehal."
To be continued… / under edition

Chapter XII
Duodecim Evangelii

The Rainbow filament changed the banners of each scattered color. A new era is already coming in its white color, fading in the entrance Antiphon that says: I will give you shepherds according to my heart, who feed you conscience and experience.
O God, who has raised up Saint Joseph, Mary and her Rabbi, the wise priest, in the Church to proclaim the universal vocation to holiness of the Duodecim Evangelii, grant us by his intercession and example, that in the exercise of ordinary work we configure ourselves to our Messiah and let us serve with fervent love the work of Redemption by our Lord Jesus Christ.

In this great event since the Cave of the Apocalypse, everyday inhabitants already bound the ancient manuscripts of Sakkelion and Sakellarios. They worried about how to make a new resolution in their gallery. In the Byzantine period they administered gifts and tributes. Interestingly related to Zacchaeus who appears in the New Testament, in the Gospel of Luke, 19, 1–10, when Jesus Christ enters Jericho. He was a tax collector, tax collector, and very wealthy. The tax collectors worked for the Romans and also asked for more money than the Romans demanded, thus becoming easily wealthy, so they were doubly hated. Zacchaeus was short in stature, and for this reason, when Jesus entered the city of Jericho, everyone crowded to see him, and he stayed behind and never saw him. Then he went ahead and climbed a species of fig tree, a sycamore (Ficus sycomorus), as it was going to pass in front of him. When Jesus arrived at that place, he said:

Zacchaeus, come down soon; because today I should stay in your house. Fig tree of Zacchaeus in Jericho. At this the people murmured that they were going to stay in the house of a sinner. Zacchaeus replies that he will give the poor half of what he has, and if he defrauded someone earlier he will give him four times as much. Jesus replies that salvation has come to his house because he is also the son of Abraham. From this antiphon emerges Twelfth Evangelii, a file arises that concelebrates the haughty morals of tributes that are to be motivated by the tribal multitudes of Gaugamela for the presence of God for what their will wants and No. From all corners they will depart to give reading to this great incident not easy to read, hear or even feel in its vibrations after the immortality of the memorial events of history as regent transporter of the meeting of all the vain voices that do not know and those who know to come exalted. That the scrolls will be quadrupled to the combatants who end you dead or alive in Gaugamela, each carrying one of them in his hand.

All the crossings of relationships in ancient society, infused the parallels of the sustainability of Faith through generosity, almost transferred from an essential charism praised by the esoteric nucleus of the same dogma, becoming confused in the path that has to transport it without being aware that the destiny that took him comes wrong from the threshold of the doubt of the beginning. Since his wicked king Manases was imprisoned, imprisoned, and exiled, called the wicked king. He lived in the depths of the heat of Avernus. For modern Christians, Manasseh is an icon of Divine forgiveness, from where the traditional Prayer of Manasseh arises from the prayers of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, since after being one of the most ****** and pagan kings of the Jews, He forgave him and was even buried in the city of David, a pantheon reserved only for faithful kings, which means that God completely forgave him.

Etréstles, great work of the perenniality of the Koumeterium of Messolonghi, was buried nine times, and after the ninth time, he was resurrected for the eternity of infinity. Etréstles is the main mediator between the dioceses of Duodecim Evangelii. Always on his sculpted slabs, the birds rubbed and told them that they awaited his oblation for the years that they had to be with him forever.

Etréstles says: I write! Words that hypnotize my will. What I do not know, I want to know for everything that I have not achieved You. They are heard by me, but my intellectual candidates intercede for me!
"Under the ground of ignorance there is happiness and it is eternal,
How happy we go for the beautiful escarpments,
Where the devil's tail cracked the stone...
And the robe of God...
He absorbed the foam of the waves that vitalized,
Our gases here in the graves of the Twelfth Evangelii”
Here you will hope to be at the mercy of the lessons of procession after procession. Thus would begin the factions of conflicts of the powers of the Good over the engendered evil. Every being will ineffably be forgiven before I have to leave to meet my blood Vernarth. Sooner rather than later, I will bring the documents of the Twelfth Evangelii, for this frank interlude as all the weight on the innocent clouds of noble wind in Persian lands.

Megatons of romantics are buried, they carry in their hands the scrolls of the Twelfth Evangelii, which will lead them through the remnants of their bodies teleported by the umpteenth theological speculations. They are dissociated into nine parts:

Messolonghi Brotherhood: By mandate of adoration and recognition of good reception of the Holy field to the Romantics.

Saint John in Patmos: totalitarian stay in captivity for his ideas fulfilled.

Allegory of Manases: To help them when they are under the sword of fear discovered in Gaugamela.

Bersahel entry: with its super size appeasing any small doubt.

Sheesham's Staff: to open all the hearts of the maidens who fear giving birth to ****** warrior children who break hearts of other maidens.

Strigoi frigate: sailing with the damsels of Tuscany sitting on the newly placed masks to fall in love with more oceans to conquer.

Raeder and Petrubus: Every child that is born and dies will be embedded in the bowels of the fantastic Pelican of the Dodecanese.

Likantus: Challenge Medea and make her captive of herself by making her fall in love with her lost lover.

Duodecim Evangelii de Zauco: feverish dream not fulfilled. Gates from beyond the scriptures manifested in perpetual prophetic dreams. Zauco traces his height and the whole world took him with him.

This sacred document with the nine personalities of the Megatons of the Romantics, recommends deliberating what will happen after the battles of Gaugamela. What will be the new goals in successive lives that Vernarth and his comrades would have to travel.


Post Gaugamela Ellipsis: In the ninth year of Vernarth's reign, on the tenth day of the tenth month, Dario the Great, King of Persia, arrived with his whole army again at Gaugamela, having lost the battle; He camped in front of the city and they surrounded it with a stockade, he remained silent without any gesture of altering the events that occurred. The city was under peaceful siege until the eleventh year. In the fourth month, on the ninth day of the month, while hunger in the city was tightening and there was no more bread for the people of the country, a gap was opened in the city, where everyone united in total solidarity to resort to the aid of the delayed families. Although the dates were dissimilar and anachronistic, these were reincorporated to give the analysis of attack and flight, since this vicious circle has been repeated since time immemorial and each time you flee you lose a trace with evidence that determines what to attract to gather new collisions not trailing them on the run.

To be continued… / under edition.

Vernarth was in Sardinia in the Nuraghe megalithic complexes when he conceived his apostolate as a messenger, biologically entrenched in the taxonomic stasis, with a merely profane and urban framework. In whose classification he would transmit to his relatives after long periods in Macedonia, sailing and doing his falconry and philosophical avant-garde tasks with Aristotle, from a laxity that invited, after long rejoices, to record and sculpt messages with the pigeons of his village. Near Pela, in the central region of Macedonia, where his general Alexander the Great resided, south of the Axio River, his abode was nomadic and was on a hill near the lakes and mountains surrounded by Greco-barbarian inhabitants, tracing the Chalcidian league , after the Peloponnesian War. He was in great campaigns in the former Pela, in which he watched arduously in urban and architectural plans, where he had the privilege of interacting with great artists, thinkers, historians and philosophers.

His testament as an artist is precisely to be an apostolate of a thought that would intersect with the Yahwist gift towards a mission of the Apostle Matías, whose connection would provide his transliteration of the post-mortuary link of the Jesus of Nazareth, in substitution of Judas Iscariot, due to his apostasy. . Vernarth, distressed by this episode, became Commander of Alexander the Great, lying already primitive in his Hetairoi ranks, transcending over the stain of Judas Iscariot, to face in the arena of Pela. In a reverie near the Thermaic Gulf, he genuflected under the sacrosanct trees near some illustrious Kashmar Cypresses, Channeling his spiritual raging and tramontano in the gulf, to take him out of a banal summer from his transition of an immolated soul and make him walk for thirty days to bare feet, without sweet potatoes in his hands to ego stone him, only naming him slavish stubble from the crops of the deleterious nesting grounds of the Kashmar Ravens, bidding him so that his blood is ****** from the heels of the rooted trees of Thor forest, usurping the " Don de Iahvé ”in dishonor of its Hebraic appellation, for rhetorical onomatopoeic, resulting from the whimsical roar of black lineage emanating from the mouth of Aulos centrally in the Cobra. In the aforementioned connection he was recomposed in the group of twelve, being in the gulf and in the incidences of the re-indoctrination of the twelve apostolates, he being with his prayer and sacrifice in the religious character for the community worshiping Kashmar; whose roots hardened towards the immolation portent of silence as it entered the black night of Judas, for excessive twists of its bifurcations, intertwining with the Beams of the Thermaic cliff, like a lynx observing the height and its prominence in that of Judas diminishing over the stained requeríos of hell ..., thus their remains were scattered by the synod of bustard birds in the sky sprinkled with globular creation, faded by the hordes of the conclusive of the late Neolithic Druid by the alternate deity Belinus, with ingots of sooty petrified poplar of Hecate boiling in  the Avernus.


We shoveled over the holm oak groves and their trees, sacralizing factotum after the ritual of the Dodona sanctuary, in uniformity towards a murmur in the leaves from an oak in the spell of a man towards an oracle, to consummate him with the mendicant count of the Ziziphus spina-christi ; hawthorn from the crown of Jesus but with Kashmar implants, on the crown of Judas already immolated.

Vernarth walked alone through the inlet of Skala, on Patmos, when he had to undertake a trip to Judah, even so he also walked in the inlet of Sardinia, after being in the megalithic complex Nugara, together with Etréstles and Walekiara, they are approaching the coincidence from Tuscany. Once they stayed in Sardinia, a coastal sailboat transported them in the middle of a stormy day, it was a great happy day to arrive in La Spezia. Here they parked at night following the Liturgy, highlighting those that coincided with Lent of Holy Week, where one day they were seen talking with Petrarch and Laura de Noves. The olive trees keep pietism with the phantasmagorical spectra of the Kashmar, conceived for them by the double murmur of the Duoversal man's spell. Always in Tuscany the slopes below the garden have been occupied, which has a distant view of the roofs and towers of Florence. The monumental fountain is set on a steep hill on a side flank of the garden terrace, where it has a seated god flanked by lions in relief of stucco from a niche decorated with pebble mosaics and padded masonry. "Here at the Verbena ..., one day of long feast, everyone together with Vernarth gets drunk with Corinth Wine and snakes crushed by their deformed feet, which brought and did not stop the swaying rhythm of the music that made them anticipate their multi existence beyond the grave than his limitless sensibilities, turning his apostolate close to his instigated destiny to Patmos in the hands of his original Duoverse with translation, rotation and Duoversal Theurgic orbit, for spell-dogmatic invoking ultra-sensory powers of angels and gods, in order to communicate with its compatriot land near Pela, in synonymy with Sardinia and Florence.