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In Rome there is a tree

In Rome there is a tree. There are others, but this has its roots, branches and everything you need to be considered in the world of trees, plus it's also great.
So let's say that in Rome there is this big tree. I do not think much if you do not travel in space at a rate similar to that with which it travels the Earth in the Solar System, the System Solar in the Galaxy and the Galaxy in the Universe, and yet I did not understand if the universe goes around in a universe with other algebraically possible or imaginary.
However in Rome and there is a tree that is a fact, I think.
His species is unknown to me, I know almost for certain that it is not a pine, although it is surrounded by pine trees, and also for the fact that it is different from them that I understand that this is not.
This tree attracts me, perhaps because of its branches or any of its branches. Yes, the logs, because as it exits from the huge land, who knows whether or not realizing how much this leads him to walk in space, is knotted on itself and spreads - the term seem appropriate - and launches into the air like a fountain, several trunks leaning mutate into branches, branches in needles, but not a pine, a fir tree does not even appear, and the lower branches and longer toyed suspended, horizontal , half-height, whatever the full height, and shorter legs and higher toyed imagining grow. The needles such as hair, dangle hanging from every branch. How
wings or as awnings, interior and saying a mantra doing yoga, the branches spread out and caress the air, and the long-nailed fingers tickling the needle-like molecules of oxygen, carbon dioxide and sulfur or anything else that , hopping between light and shadow the wings of the tree, or awnings, fills the air of atoms.
Such a tree is as beautiful as the most beautiful of the awnings on the market today, has at least a dozen bizarre stories to tell.
Now I'm sitting next to him. Neither of them paid for the ticket, but we are traveling together in space, aboard the planet on which we were born.

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If it were not for his past that one can only imagine or study, for the treasures of historical, archaeological and artistic, on the other now reduced to empty sets of bait and representation, and metastasis of trade policy of two states if it were not for its geological location, now unrecognizable, because urbanization canagliesca covering the ancient Roman countryside like a blanket of dung in which Rome is beautiful to me, if it were not for the memory of his people, for no other survived to the subculture in which the businessman and has run incarognito Advertising es'è disintegrated in the categories of consumers, if it were not for all that is gone, dead, buried and almost forgotten, Roma would make me really sick.
no longer exists. There is the old city or the artistic. There is no longer the popular city, submerged by the decomposition of the traffic, the turpitude of the modern Roman cemetery and most of the districts subsequent to nineteen hundred. The people of Rome gives the advertising. They've taken off the streets, alleys, fountains, the surrounding countryside, the people locked up in the dorms to dream unnecessary to forget the best in life. And these people knew that life is worth now. At one time anyone came to Rome to be Roman and became Roman changed his mind. Now everyone gets to Rome became an asshole.
Rome no longer exists, except in the minds of those who think. The beauty of Rome is not in the world today and the world of today has no merits, he just repainted the walls for the use of representation, as is done with the studios in the center, hotels in palaces. This is done for money.
You did it for money before, though. So Rome, the new one, the metropolis that usurps the current coat of arms of this ancient metropolis, the place where for more than two thousand seven hundred years and we look upon the world, does business, it is small and vast conspiracies, one dies of stress and anger, is not a place unlike any other. And no place like Rome, the eternal city, the eternal refuge of the beggars. Wore ragged in the Caesars triumph, beggars begging the pope king, a boastful ragged cheered the balcony, like beggars in cahoots with them by signature institutional selling apartments where there should be only vineyards, wheat, nymphs chased by fauns, contemplation and the study of world arts and life. And the city Modern was to be built around the old, but on the other hand, to the east.
Rome attracts me, as the contempt. And 'the distorted mirror of this world, is multi-faceted mirror of the times, the mirror is broken in the past.
many things happen in Rome and Rome is a place so well known and studied most of the things that concern have never seen or heard.
I know of a few.