Aldo Moresi (10.01.1933-17.10.2015) Aldo Moresi was born in Certara, in the upper Valcolla. He lived in Bellinzona. He had attended the Magistral School and the Ecole Supérieure in Neuchâtel. He had also attended courses in Italy in the fields of literature and art criticism. For several years, he had been a state official. And later, he was secretary of the Natural Beauties Commission for the protection of the environment. He collaborated with the Ticino and Italian press with articles on current affairs and art, as well as with cultural magazines. For his activities in the field of culture, he received important awards in the 1980s. In Stresa, he was awarded the 'Penna d'oro' prize. He was a member of the Swiss Italian Writers' Association and the Pen Club. "I see the village school again, the serene faces of my classmates, the paternal gesture of the good teacher and it seems to me, on certain evenings, that I can hear their voices again. Time has now erased those moments, but the heart remains to remember. I am certain, as Roman Rolland said, that happiness lies in knowing one's limits and loving them" Il tuo amato paese "I wanted to write these lyrics as a tribute to all those who still believe in the beautiful and authentic things in life. I gave the book the title 'SONG OF SEASONS' because I feel linked to my land, to my countryside. Thus were born the stories of sunrises, of sunsets, of unforgettable moments spent in my village, lived in direct contact with nature. We live in the time of disamour. The excessive materialisation of life leads us, day after day, to our dehumanisation. That is why it is essential to rediscover our true identity, recovering our ancient values, our traditions, in order to continue living and hoping. Pier Paolo Pasolini, in a splendid page on fireflies, wrote: 'As for me, let it be clear, I would give the whole of Montedison for a firefly'1. This means that each of us needs poetry, that irrepressible voice that is part of our way of being and feeling. I remember springs of light, of summer, of ripe hay: of those poetic autumns and winters full of silence and snow. I remember in particular my mother, her goodness, her smile. My father with others from Vallerano emigrated to North America at a very young age. He returned home in early summer. He died in Chicago several years ago. Uncle Onorato at that time, that is, before the 1950s, had been elected mayor of Certara - in the upper Valcolla - a position he held for over thirty years, with great dignity. With my sister, brother, and other family members, I spent all the seasons up there.".