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Fine Art Photography Gallery by Iacopo Iacopini

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Torre del lago Puccini

Photographer: Iacopo I.
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Free as a boat - Massaciuccoli lake - photography

Free as a boat - Massaciuccoli lake - photography

Torre del Lago Puccini is a district of Viareggio (Lucca) and is a small village located between the sea and the lake of Massaciuccoli. The name of the place is composed of Torre del lago (Tower of the lake) that is the original name of this village and Puccini from the surname the great composer Giacomo Puccini that have lived and worked here during his life.

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From the pubblic square located near the villa where Giacomo Puccini composed some of his best compositions the surrounding natural scenography is meravellous during all the seasons. Thanks to the closeness with the mediterranean sea at the sunset time these places are enlightened by a light continuosly shifting from white to yellow, orange and all the red spectrum. The calm of the wather trasform the lake in a natural mirror reflectiong boats, clouds, birds, and the Apuane Alpes with the famous Carrara marble quarries.

The atmosphere is relaxing and quiet and the show of the place represent a great natural frame for the writing “Chi vuol esser lieto sia, del doman non c’è certezza” (“Let who will be gay, To-morrow, none can tell” from the “Canzone di Bacco,” by Lorenzo de Medici) on the gazebo near the lake.

“Canzone di Bacco”
by Lorenzo de Medici

Quant’è bella giovinezza,
che si fugge tuttavia!
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c’è certezza.Quest’è Bacco ed Arïanna,
belli, e l’un de l’altro ardenti:
perché ‘l tempo fugge e inganna,
sempre insieme stan contenti.
Queste ninfe ed altre genti
sono allegre tuttavia.
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c’è certezza.Questi lieti satiretti,
delle ninfe innamorati,
per caverne e per boschetti
han lor posto cento agguati;
or da Bacco riscaldati
ballon, salton tuttavia.
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia
di doman non c’è certezza.Queste ninfe hanno anco caro
da lor essere ingannate:
non può fare a Amor riparo,
se non gente rozze e ingrate:
ora insieme mescolate
suonon salton tuttavia.
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c’è certezza.Questa soma, che vien drieto
sopra l’asino, è Sileno:
così vecchio è ebbro e lieto,
già di carne e d’anni pieno;
se non può star ritto,
almeno ride e gode tuttavia.
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c’è certezza.Mida vien dopo a costoro:
ciò che tocca, oro diventa.
E che giova aver tesoro,
s’altro poi non si contenta?
Che dolcezza vuoi che senta
chi ha sete tuttavia?
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c’è certezza.Ciascun apra ben gli orecchi,
di doman nessun si paschi;
oggi siàn,giovani e vecchi,
lieti ognun, femmine emaschi;
ogni tristo pensier caschi:
facciam festa tuttavia.
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c’è certezza.

Donne e giovinetti amanti,
viva Bacco e viva Amore!
Ciascun suoni, balli e canti!
Arda di dolcezza il core!
Non fatica, non dolore!
Ciò ch’a esser convien sia.
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c’è certezza.

Youth is sweet and well
But doth speed away!
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.Bacchus and his Fair,
Contented with their fate,
Chase both time and care,
Loving soon and late;
High and low estate
With the nymphs at play;
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.Laughing satyrs all
Set a hundred snares,
Lovelorn dryads fall
In them unawares:
105 Glad with wine, in pairs
They dance the hours away:
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.Not unwillingly
Were these nymphs deceived:
From Love do but flee
Graceless hearts aggrieved:
Deceivers and deceived
Together wend their way.
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.Fat Silenus nears
On an ass astride:
Full of wine and years,
Come and see him ride:
He lolls from side to side
But gleefully alway:
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.Midas following,
Turneth all to gold:
What can treasure bring
To a heart that’s cold?
And what joy unfold
For who thirsteth, pray?
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.Ears be very bold,
Count not on to-morrow:
Let both young and old,
Lads and lassies, borrow
Joy and banish sorrow.
Doleful thoughts and grey:
107 Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.

Lads and lassies all,
Love and Bacchus Hail!
Dance and song befall!
Pain and sadness fail!
Tender hearts prevail,
Happen then what may!
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.

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