Archivi tag: english poetry


art@ Federica Nightingale, Digital Collage, "I haven't told my garden yet"
art@ Federica Nightingale, Digital Collage, “I haven’t told my garden yet”



My love is here

where every cloud completes

my thoughts

Over the sun is my  sight

where every leaf stings my skin

and a green stain deserves the light

I am filled with flowers

so tender is the texture

my bones recreated

where every shade comes and visits me

for good

I actually breathe

the dense air of this useful summer


So be kind to me

for I am deserted

For every little song you will sing

I haven’t told my garden yet



Testo in italiano qui:






Ten Poems for the End of Time

‘Ten Poems for the End of Time’ –
Una Grace Andreacchi in splendida forma

The Merida Review

by Grace Andreacchi


a smear of blood
a section of fine lace dendrites
cut crosswise
a leaf caught under a turning wheel
a chair without arms
a single palm leaf folded
to make a cross
you are no longer
these things
lie down upon your bed and fold your arms
to make a cross


once you were
tormented in 3D

now you’re called
saved from everything

eyes washed clean
as the sky after rain

they say there’s
love in the afterlife

beautiful garments
a blue glazed heaven

your tears in a jar
pickled and precious

a long long table
with seats for everyone

the rings of saturn
are jasper and onyx

the wings of mercury
grow from your shoulders

the Pleiades sit
beside you and chatter

your name’s on the poster
you are the guest here

you may even be
the bride at…

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Giornata mondiale della Poesia



Remember to write one word a day

Inside your pocket just a little lie


It crawls on the floor

Under the woodbench

Under the light it sparkles

When the sun lays out on the line

And the garden gets deeper and deeper

No matter what’s your purpose

Just write your word to the world

Because nobody knows about your  silly prayer

And nobody sings your song but you

There are so many bridges out there

So many rivers flow

And you’ll never know the right direction

You only trust the weather you keep inside

So slowly the wind blows

while catching the simple  jolt of your heart


Ricorda di scrivere una parola al giorno

Nella tua tasca solo una piccola bugia

che canta

gattona sul pavimento

sotto la panca di legno

sotto la luce essa brilla

Quando il sole è messo a repentaglio

e il giardino diventa sempre più profondo

non importa qual’è il tuo scopo

solo scrivi la tua parola al mondo

perchè nessuno sa della tua sciocca preghiera

e nessuno canta la tua canzone se non tu

Ci sono così tanti ponti là fuori

così tanti fiumi scorrono

e tu non saprai mai la giusta direzione

tu solo fidati del tempo che trattieni dentro

Così lento soffia il vento

nell’ afferrare il semplice sobbalzo del tuo cuore.


Testo e traduzione di Federica Galetto

Dylan Thomas, “Fern Hill” (Il colle delle felci)

Dylan Thomas tradotto da Andrea Sirotti

Iris di Kolibris

traduzione di Andrea Sirotti


Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs

About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,

The night above the dingle starry,

Time let me hail and climb

Golden in the heydays of his eyes,

And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns

And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves

Trail with daisies and barley

Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns

About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,

In the sun that is young once only,

Time let me play and be

Golden in the mercy of his means,

And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves

Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,


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The Emmores

The-Smell-of-ApplesThe-Emmores-bookFrom The Emmores, by Richard O’Brien, Emma Press 2014