Maria Pina Ciancio's poetry is reserved, with a flat, delicate voice, and yet resistant, like a tenacious winter flower in a cold, snowy landscape.
With her writing, the poetess is one of the few creatures who lives out exactly the conflictual bond with her roots (houses, words) that Lucanian children of emigration are condemned to live through, being foreigners almost everywhere (from the preface by Andrea Di Consoli).