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



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