DROPS OF DARKNESS – Akiko Yosano: From cherry blossoms fall. So, in the gray dawn, stars detach from the sky. EMBRACING EACH OTHER AT NIGHT – M. de Unamuno: Open your arms to the night, which is black, and very beautiful. The sun of life has it looked, with its eyes of fire. The sun made the black night, and …
Read More »Jean-Michel Basquiat (1960/1988), American painter: The man who led the American graffiti from metropolitan to the art galleries
LANGUAGES – Poetry by Bei Dao
LANGUAGES Many languages are spoken, now, in this world. Soaring words, meet, meet, collide, they create sparks, sometimes hate, sometimes love. Higher the rise of rationality, but without sinking voice, with thoughts fragile and lightweight, bamboo tablets. A woven basket filled with blind poisonous mushrooms, those beasts painted on the rock we trample flowers galoppandoci above, but a head secret …
Read More »LAVINIA FONTANA (1552/1614), ITALIAN PAINTER: The daughter of a painter, a woman who appreciated Parmigianino, Tibaldi and Veronese
WHEN MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Pain in my heart, by Otis Redding
PAIN IN MY HEART Pain in my heart, she’s treating me cold, where can my baby be Lord no one knows. Pain in my heart just won’t let me sleep, where can my baby be, Lord where can she be. Another day, as again it is though, I want you to come back, come back, come back, baby, ’till I …
Read More »BETWEEN ISLANDS AND ATOLL – The island of Madascar sailing
From April to November, we are in for a wonderful opportunity to travel (my old emotion), that are here, now, to tell you. I started from the island of Perfumes – near the coast of Madagascar – after a welcome drink, with the direction the archipelago of Mitsio (small islands and atolls, 30 miles north). The larger of those little …
Read More »ROSALBA CARRIERA (1673/1757): ITALIAN PAINTER: Precious miniatures, almost on ivory, joyfully living and scrutinizing the faces
SOFONISBA ANGUISSOLA (1535/1625), ITALIAN PAINTER: Shades of renaissance feminine, in the shadow of mannerism
TAMARA DE LEMPICKA (1898/1980), POLISH PAINTER: Traveling in Italy, Switzerland and France, the creative talent come true color.
WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Franco Battiato, “The Season of Love”
THE SEASON OF LOVE The season of love comes and goes, desires do not age almost never with age. If I think about how I misspent my time, that will not return, will not return. The season of love comes and goes, suddenly without realizing, the live, will surprise you. We have had occasions, losing them; not rimpiangerle not rimpiangerle …
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