Today the sixth of March, the rushing Tiber
staggers ‘cross the rocky mountain groves and
moves towards the somber valley of Casentino.
Artistic talent wielded in his hand, he wrought with
adept flair, yet slaved to reason that in his
art defied and rose above the crumbling
ruins of his time. The light of revelation shed upon
his quaking hand; a man reborn, whose forte chained
his skillful mind to the foothold of the lord.
To the very end of art and life, eyes wandered 'cross
the pillars of the art he bent with gentle elegance, the
truth he sought within the shape of rock. The vessel
of his craft; he forged his soul into the statue’s deadened heart.
