"My beloved Ambrose.
My mother was in a chair in front of our Bangalow, when shaking hands with my brother
Naviglio, he left his last words to this world unstable. My brother is now quiet know that my mother has done its job and that the time had come to be welcome in a place best suited to him. Ambrose, I wanted to make sure I still believe in God, but began to have strong resentment towards the beach. Ostia, how much blood on the shoreline. Why all this hatred? "I remember when I ran away to Rome, leaving the door my mother Host of the house and welcomed me as a redeemed prostitute in search of true love. And every time I greeted sad that shore to return home. And now? All the love and commitment only violence in return. I left my mother on the shores of Ostia, to make the spirit to rest and now I've lost it. Ostia is not enough, is constantly hungry. Someone else will fall, if not the mother, the next will be the child [PPP] . Let me say Ambrose, I will not spit array pagan speculation, but the love of God has nothing to do with the blood of Ostia. As may cry Tagaste, Ostia banquet with another heart of Africa. And I want to be honest with you, Ambrose, I'm glad Ostia has taken a mother, proud of a child. Now I go back to Africa because I do not want Ostia take me alive, I just want to spit on this earth evil. " Augustine
" thieving Rome "
Ambrose
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