Arditi, com'altro named this bold flowers of the regime who dared to place a categorical imperative from the sands Bolshevik of Mars.
screw marked with the glory that came with the action where the lassitude bourgeois would not have even pushed the imagination.
Heroes, we say, with scorn and jokes and laughter martial offends the memory of those fierce armies.
They gave Italy a new empire and for it and it died.
was real glory? The question though rhetoric and ourselves also mail us indignant romanissime and boils the blood in his veins.
Tell your poster, heir to a world devoid of its overall weak and Duce, where the Italian industry is only haberdashery and is wearing a black shirt with skinny mannequins.
Bizarre is the human mind sudden forget what only yesterday it was, but the face of great men and their companies get there it is granite and the words carved with a knife as romantic hearts in the bark of trees.
are carved the names for all these: scum, Pini, Freghieri, Barbagli and Santodio, that tree is the story, that heart is Italy the knife
Men soaked fate, which only saw the honor of hearing The hour of destiny was Italian Mars, Mars was a fascist.
They were the arm and hand of Il Duce barriers extend beyond the gray of the cosmos liberal Giolitti, the Duce's ever heard of it, but for sure he realized it, his mind is like one of those prodigious calculating machines of which will the invention.
As for us very strongly affirm this pure, pure, wonderful and yet undeniable historical fact, that whole being announced and congeals in this simple yet pithy phrase:
"At 15:00 on May 10, 1939 Mars is fascist! "
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