"THE SACRED JUICE OF THE GRAPE (pride of Italy) Fruit of ancestors and patience/ born from a dream, from passion and enterprise/ of Venus and love it is the essence/ requires careful care and long waiting/ The round, blond and colored berry/ close to its companions, ready for the banquet/ is harvested at the end of summer/ if water and sun have blessed it./ Even if trampled with feet,/ crushed, offended, the juice is born warm./ One senses it. Noble is the lineage./ Where it ends, the herald indicates./ Sweet from the first tapping becomes must/ sugar becomes cheerful, spirited/ changes in gradation and becomes quick/ becomes coveted nectar, tasty./ It has green glass, the sun does not like it,/ it really deserves to be rested./ It loves silence, freshness and much peace/ and it is a treasure if it is vintage./ It is not just an artisanal product/ food, culture, art and also history/ mix together and you find the salt/ of the pride of Italy, its glory./ It lives on sun, sea and fantasy,/ creativity, emotion and good food,/ it is a lifestyle. It is empathy./ Hard work to be able to do it./ Dreams, pleasure and art in a glass/ sweetness, love and encounters. It is close to you./ It tastes of friendship, toasts, pleasure/ we, down to earth, call it WINE."
Created by d'Araprì