Per Amica Silentia Lunae

The work opens with a tender, almost conspiratorial letter to a close friend, recalling a sun‑drenched afternoon in the French countryside and a wandering Persian cat that lingers in the brambles. From that simple scene springs a series of meditations on imagination, art, and the elusive nature of self‑knowledge, as the narrator traces his thoughts beneath a moonlit tower and a lamp that never seems to go out. The prose unfolds with the rhythm of poetry, weaving references to Dante, Keats and the ancient craft of carving stone, while probing the tension between creative ambition and the quiet moments that shape it.

Throughout the first act the voice shifts between playful recollection and philosophical inquiry, inviting listeners to linger on the paradox of seeking an image of oneself while remaining aware of its impossibility. The tone is intimate yet expansive, offering a mosaic of lyrical fragments that feel both personal and universal. It’s a contemplative journey that rewards patience, encouraging a deeper listening to the whisper of moon‑lit silence that underlies every line.