Let's enter the woods behind the house, with its plants. Many of them recur in the texts, from fig to beech, from fir to lemon, from chestnut to pine, from oak to holly and acacia, with roots, a metaphor that is more than obvious and deliberate.
The woods are a mystery and a thought, even a bed beneath the house, a meeting place and a hiding place; they are a confusion of different things, their beauty to be discerned where it lies. (Gianfranco Isetta)
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