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La misura delle mani on MARGUTTE
[translated by Google]
SIMONA NOBILE
Sei la misura delle mie mani, il tocco del mio cuore,
la carne da dove sono uscita,
sei l’aria che si fa leggera quando mi avvicino alla tua porta.
*
A te donna che hai ripreso a parlare
tra il ricordo di un sorriso
e l’incespicare di una lettera mancante…
Il tuo diario è soffio per il mio cuore
quando ricalchi parole a te sconosciute
con una penna rotonda
a sufficienza per essere tenuta in una mano.
La stringi forte:
bastone a ricordo
di un sostegno che si fa speranza,
sillaba che si arruffa tra la bocca e i denti,
moncone da copiare su un foglio,
pezzo di parola che ruota nella mente.
Pronta a distendersi in morbida uscita.
[Translated by Google]
... it is difficult to see concentrated in such a small space, a small booklet, so much 'meat at the fire'
(it is appropriate to say), of very different origin and declination, but in many
cases of sure liberation, affirmation, claim ... and awareness.
The truth effect of almost this whole poem is gratifying, it's like it's finally
man too could listen to what women say, what they have
tried (and too often unspoken) with him, for him, about him ... transversely to age
and continents, this is finally the Song of Love of the Woman (universal)!
And if there are few Revelations of the Invisible, here finally said by artists,
the linguistic transpositions are, for me, the most intriguing
"che baci appassionati/
si danno di nascosto le tue rime/...è godimento avere in bocca il senso/da capire" (Silvia Bre),
o "scrivimi sul corpo" (Grazia Fresu), e poi (sempre più sottile), "bacia il peso della piuma/
che non si posa" (Valentina Meloni), "quando il fiume si faceva /mare e questo acqua dolce/
...questo è il non luogo,/la non ora: un solo battito/d'ala" (Ester Monachino)...
The exemplification could well continue and - although in principle I do not agree
separation, not even the distinction between female poetry and male poetry
(according to the very formally debatable final seamet by Antonio Melillo),
I must admit that I (male) can not say specularly
the "strange thing" by Silvia Rosa ("I would like to kiss all the women / whom you loved") ...
So, great compliments for your wonderful work, an anthology so necessary,
in which you limit your notes to the formal distinctions on the different style of the poets,
and, in conclusion, I would say that I am sorry there is not my name in this golden booklet ...
I now live in an increasingly rarefied space,
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La seconda nascita on Il Barbadillo
[translated by Google]
"The second birth" (Giuliano Ladolfi publisher) is the third collection of verses published in December 2017 by Fabiano Spessi after "The art of meeting" (2015) and "A promise of happiness" (2016), already reviewed on the pages of Barbadillo, and can be considered the third part of a trilogy. Let's start with the title: the second birth alludes to a season that closes and another season that opens. And indeed we perceive in this work a marked change of stylistic register. To predominate are no longer the vivid and sometimes ironic portraits of men and women humiliated and offended by a pathogenic society, which puts the economy above all else, but the reference to a generic, indistinct "you" ("it's hot and rainy / but you do not seek shelter / because, tonight, there is no shelter "in the last day of summer" when you were just a boy / nice new houses "in Boy band, etc.). On the plain discursiveness of the first two collections there is a more involuntary discourse, "Pasolinian", the verse tends to slide towards prose, sometimes towards the prosaic, as for example the persistent recourse to English expressions not always functional to the poetic context.