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Home » POETRY » SHORT AND FULLY POETIC MASTERPIECES – Sandro Penna / A strange joy of living, even in pain.

SHORT AND FULLY POETIC MASTERPIECES – Sandro Penna / A strange joy of living, even in pain.

Oracular wisdom verses, inside Epic imprint.

Here you find historical structures, museums and attractions such as the Perugina Chocolate Factory https://www.perugina.com/it During the Middle Ages, Perugia was known for its devotion to the development of arts and culture. Here he was called to work Raphael, when he moved between Florence and Perugia. Today it is a small museum dedicated to the fresco of the Trinity and Saints (by Raphael and Perugino). It is a chapel that is part of the church of San Severo. Inside a former scales factory, the owner harbours Italian food and wine at L’Officina http://www.l-officina.net/ his restaurant and emporium.

Isolated and insensitive, always he was alien to the official poetical circles. Some his writings will be issued only after his death. In a June day,1906, he was born in Perugia, where attended a irregular curriculum of study. When SANDRO PENNA was twenty moved in Rome. In 1932, a famous poet gave him attention, allowing to publish his first poems. His first collections will be issued only after WWII, but after them there will be twelve years without any publishing.

There was always boys in his poems. The problem of sex had consumes his life. In his work, “the beautiful” is not conscious of itself and is therefore erotic. Younger than poet Eugenio Montale SANDRO PENNA has been unknown in the English speaking world. In his poetry he clearly says who he is and how he feels, moving away from the trappings of identity, toward an honest expression of love. He always was critical of those who hide their desires behind a façade of modesty. He dead in Rome, on a January day, 1977.

THE NOISE OF THE DAWN – How loud is the noise of dawn, made of things more than people. A short whistle precedes it sometimes, a voice that gladly challenges the day. But then everything is submerged in the city. And my star is that dull star, my slow death without despair.

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