One day, in the time of times, God was a party from the sea (which was, then, to Sorrento) and went along the coast to another sea (which was then to Amalfi), as the group crossed the hill and down for rocks and trails, an amphitheater appeared forested. The God stopped, gazed, he breathed an air of rock and salt, and said, "Here could be born a country!" Said and done: he drew, from a rock which bore shoulder, a handful of seeds homes, and they freed, along with a gesture, in the basin: the seeds glowed in the blue, like bees, then fell in bulk here, there, and the new season, after the rains of winter, in the valley sprouted from every part of small white houses . From seed of God, was born Positano.
Of course the houses were inhabited by men, and the men had to reach their swift trade, on the top, a highway , and downstream , a shore. So to join house to house, they were forced to throw a set of stairs , steps and paths : thus all the bizarre streets more or less thick of steps , which are in each house of Positano, the goal of a holy stairs . And so was the tangle of discounts and meetings that now in Positano is up or down , but it is certain that you do not go flat . And you must go on foot because of passable roads by vehicles that there is not one: the one from the provincial road winds like a snake to create a fitting and a confluence of all the cliffs, peaks , the groves , the gardens where the houses are nestled in the country! It has a town square , where on Sunday the fanfare sounds , does not have a bar , not a club !There is freedom. So it is clear that Positano is the land of the free , that is, the artists. Painters , poets, musicians who , moreover , luck , if desired, to never meet , leading the freedom nth degree, a kind of cultivation of the self for its own use . These artists have understood first the sun, the air , the light of Positano, then the stone , tufa , the charm , architecture, and we have chosen some houses rute , which have adapted with a respect and love cauteloso ancient , so they managed to create some nests, which if you look at them outside still hold the archaic simplicity and typical local building , and if you find the thresholds of the gates welcoming hospitality of the modern home ! In these houses , they should be born the great pictures , great architecture and great poems . But do they arise? It does not matter that arise , matter that humanity has for now a country of exceptional recollection and the ability to recognize each other, face to face, as in a mirror .
Da "Bellezza" - Luglio 1942 - Cesare Giulio Viola