In memory of Lino Maga, one of the last poets of wine

Written by CinziaTosini

Dear Lino, when I heard you left this land, for a moment I had a jolt and a sudden feeling of emptiness. It has been a while now since our last meeting. I remember that I had come to you thanks to our unforgettable President Sandro Pertini. His choice of drinking your Barbacarlo – wine produced on the Val Prei, the hill owned by the family that grandfather Carlo gave to his grandchildren – and the determination with which you defended his name, up to guaranteeing exclusivity, they highlighted your tenacity in fighting the abuses. I still remember the determination with which you told me about the legal battles ... "Cynthia, mai fermarsi, mai arrendersi!”

Well, dear Lino, in relationships quality matters more than quantity, we know it. Precisely for this reason you will continue to live in the memories of those who knew you. Who has not had the opportunity, can know you through your words. Below I report the poem you gave me and that I keep among my dearest things. One of the many poems you wrote and scattered in your shop dedicated to those who passionately guard and respect the earth.

My wine does not follow the rules of the market but those of time and experience, is grape juice of the earth, the place that gave birth to, for people who still loves the taste of the earth. Linen Maga



What does the Author


I think we can save the Earth, if we can save her.

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