Anna Ferriero

He was born in Recanati

in the sober, sober village

a little past

with the scent of lavender

and goodness of a sparrow.

In the loving period

the light of life

but that ironic and oppressed cult

He transformed your joy

in eternal pessimism.

The aroma of the print

He saved your soul in prison

that your Giordani too

he asked you to translate

and to find out how painters

but you have changed phase

singing much elsewhere

over the horizon

affirming in your traits:

“To express my world

I need my verses

no more than that prose “.

Your big closure

he made you work hard

but the family environment

maybe he trained you

and also crowned.

You, sweet little sparrow

only for the fields

you sang your Silvia

sweet and without deception

your sweet caress.

From silence and then at sunset

memories of a village

on the day of that party

where infinity begins

This poem is dedicated to the great Italian poet Giacomo Leopardi



I lived far away in an isolated island.

Sanaz Davoodzadehfar


An island surrounded by an illusion of interlocking pipes,

Fire doesn’t end, a dead coral and trees breathe hard.

Ghostly trees go along the only path

The path that leads nowhere

The people are prisoners in working clothes, sleeping and eating

I lived far away at the age of twenty or more.

I surrounded by an illusion of interlocking pipes and the constant crows’ cowing.

The weather was either too hot or too cold

No rain for more than three hundred days  

It rained madly for a day.

I lived far away surrounded by cloudy water, many codes

And stores enlarged by goods.

I abated my clothes, my weight and width,

The Damam* of my language and a castanet.

My words hovered in a circle removing its purpose.

Here some people continue to think about diet

To have a safe helmet

Fit their heads,

One can see love sporadically as well. 

If you live here and you are twenty years old,

You will be sixty years old in one year.

(DamamDrum: A drum with two cylindrical heads, its sides covered with animal skin, played with hands or sticks made of palm trees. This instrument, too, is played in the southern parts of Bushehr, Iran, specifically.)

Un diamante.

Elisa Mascia

Per la giornata della mamma
pensieri esclusivi a lei son rivolti
per tenere accesa la fiamma
che tra i beni al mondo son accolti
dall’inizio della vita amore innato
che si evolve a volte straripante
in amichevole speciale afflato
che è prezioso come un diamante
e profumato fiore da innaffiare
perché giammai potrà appassire,
cresce il bene come immenso mare
ciascuno sa per non farlo morire.
Non esiste parola più bella al mondo
facile mostrare amor sincero
che viene dal cuore nel profondo
e ogni figlio ne avverte il mistero
nel pronunciare la parola mamma
la prima e l’ultima come una preghiera.
A lei è riferito il suo programma
fino all’istante che angeli giungono a schiera
qui sulla terra e fin lassù accompagnare
colei che in memoria resterà sempre da amare.
Elisa Mascia

You are the only song I want to sing

Mónika Tóth 

Dedicated my sweet Romanian friend Vasile
You are my inspiration,every day.
You are the smile on my face.
You are sparkle in my eyes.
You are the only song I want to sing.
You are my light in the darkness,
My strength when I’m too weak,
My voice when I speak.
My smile,when I see you.
My happiness when i am sad.
My friend when no one’s here.
The truth is
You mean so much to me.
nobody not loves me
no roses
no chocolate
no dear or sweetheart
deep sight
deep silence
no gift
no call
no hug
no kiss
nobody not loves me
the pen slips out of my hand
and I cry
about you
your beautiful eyes
they are splendid lovely
a fountain of joy
your beautiful red lips
the color of wonderful roses
they tell a story of happiness
your goodness
is my joy
your sweet and lively smile
is my happiness
your friendship is my greatest gift
your name is my drug
I confess,the truth is,
I adore you
your name
dedicated my best Romanian friend Vasile
every morning
your name
is honey
on my lips
every afternoon
your name
is flower
on my lips
every night
your name
is beautiful melody
om my lips
You are
the most
beautiful thing,
in my life