Nuova settimana …
Dopo aver contemplato la vendemmia e aver meditato su di essa,
mi pare necessario narrare il suo risultato: il vino, che in questi giorni è ancora mosto, uva pigiata che ribolle nelle cantine silenziose e fresche, emanando profumi che percorrono le colline. E intanto, in modo misterioso, si affina, costruisce il suo carattere, richiedendo a noi umani attesa e pazienza prima di essere la bevanda della vita e della gioia.
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