UNDER A SKY HIGH AND WITHOUT CLOUDS: Journey in the Aeolian Islands, Italy
The distance, the distance from everything, this is what you “feel” inside you, coming where – in spring and autumn – they stop herons and red herons, pelicans and flamingos, ducks, cranes and wild geese. Under that sky high and cloudless, seven volcanic islands retain clear waters and prehistoric remains, in a landscape overlooking the sea, covered with Mediterranean vegetation, …
Read More »ARTEMISIA GENTILESCHI (1593/1653), ITALIAN PAINTER: A sensitive woman, with love for the works of Caravaggio
A MAN IN A WOMAN: Renaissance poetry of Michelangelo Buonarroti
A MAN IN A WOMAN A man in a woman, even one god, for his mouth speaks, so I have to listen to this fact, I never will be mine. I should think so, much as I am, I was taken away from her, out of myself, have pity on me; yes above the vain desire spurs me her …
Read More »THAT CONSTRAINT: Renaissance poetry, by Vittoria Colonna
THAT CONSTRAINT That constraint where my happy fate to the will of Heaven tied me, to my great sorrow was dissolved by the cruel death. The suffering was so heavy and hard to bear that suddenly has deleted all my joy and, if it were not for the reason that finally won, I would have made my life short. But …
Read More »ONCE AGAIN: Renaissance poetry, by Isabella Morra
ONCE AGAIN Here again, the valley of hell, alpine river, steep mountains, spirits without any virtue, you will hear my cry and my eternal pain. Each mote I hear, every cave, wherever I stop me, wherever moving steps, because the lot, which is always changing and always increases my eternal evil. And while I lament day and night, wild animals, …
Read More »PINTURICCHIO (1452/1513), ITALIAN PAINTER: Paintings on tablets, frescoes and miniatures, for each demanding customer
NOT EXPRESS THE LOVE: Poetry, by William Blake
NOT EXPRESS LOVE Not express love, the real one is always ascoso; It is a breath that moves silent, mysterious. I said, my great love my heart was opened, with fears horrendous, cold ah, trembling, she fled. As it was far from me a traveler lifted it, silent, mysterious: she sighed and conquered. (William Blake)
Read More »THE GARDEN OF LOVE: Poetry, by William Blake
THE GARDEN OF LOVE In The Garden of Love, one day I went, And I saw a thing never seen before: a chapel erected in the center lawn, where I used to play. It was well bolted gates. “Thou shalt not”, it was written on the threshold; I turned to the Garden of Love me, that many flowers it had …
Read More »ANXIOUSLY STATUES: Poetry, by William Blake
ANXIOUSLY STATUES “Rather choke a child in the cradle, which cradle of unfulfilled desires.” Anxious statues of blood dressed in clothes, and tied for a moment, in the first light of Trafalgar Square, quietly exchanging promises, questions, complaints and cries. Mocking slogans of forbidden love, none of them laments that they would like to be happy, dares to show himself …
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