- published: 24 Jul 2015
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Badia (German: Abtei) is a comune (municipality) in South Tyrol in the Italian region Trentino-Alto Adige/Südtirol. It is one of the five Ladin-speaking communities of the Val Badia.
The following communities neighbor Badia: Cortina d'Ampezzo, Corvara, Mareo, Livinallongo del Col di Lana, San Martin de Tor, La Val and Sëlva.
The municipality of Badia contains the frazioni (subdivisions, mainly villages and hamlets) La Ila (La Villa, Stern), San Ciascian (San Cassiano, St. Kassian) and the town of Badia itself.
The emblem is that of the Winkler Colz von zu Rubatsch family which, in the sixteenth and seventeenth century, had property and the castle at Stern. The shield is party per fess, at the top is represented a sable steinbock, holding with the front hoofs a red broken branch on a or background. The lower part is divided into three, with vertex at the top, alternating gules and argent with a rose in the center; every rose has the central petal in or. The emblem was granted in 1967.
Badia is part of the nature reserves of Puez-Geisler and Fanes-Senes-Prags. It is also near the mountains of Lagazuoi (2,778 m), Conturines (3,064 m), La Varela (3,055 m), L'Ciaval (Kreuzkofel) (2,907 m) and Gardenaccia (2,500 m).
Ghost of Mother
Lingering death
Ghost on Mother's bed
Black strands on the pillow
Contour of her health
Twisted face upon the head
Ghost of perdition
Stuck in her chest
A warning no one read
Tragic friendship
Called inside the fog
Pouring venom brew deceiving
Devil cracked the earthly shell
Foretold she was the one
Blew hope into the room and said:
"You have to live before you die young"
Holding her down
Channeling darkness
Hemlock for the Gods
Fading resistance
Draining the weakness
Penetrating inner light
Road into the dark unaware
Winding ever higher
Darkness by her side
Spoke and passed her by
Dedicated hunter
Waits to pull us under
Rose up to its call
In his arms she'd fall
Mother light received
And a faithful servant's free
In time the hissing of her sanity
Faded out her voice and soiled her name
And like marked pages in a diary
Everthing seemed clean that is unstained
The incoherent talk of ordinary days
Why would we really need to live?
Decide what is clear and what's within a haze
What you should take and what to give
Ghost of perdition
A saint's premonition's unclear
Keeper of holy hordes
Keeper of holy whores
To see a beloved son
In despair of what's to come
If one cut the source of the flow
And everything would change
Would conviction fall
In the shadow of the righteous
The phantasm of your mind
Might be calling you to go
Defying the forgotten mortals