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
opainternational 