The indeterminate space in which
the poetry moves, its timelessness,
don’t make easy to understand its
Its essence is impalpable, ethereal.
From it the man draws his creative inspiration.
The images and voices that a poet is
evoking are multiple, because unlimited
is the field of his intuition.
As well as the feelings he knows how to express
with all the emotion of his soul.
Great is also the culture that from a poet
has been passed on through the centuries, along
the trajectory of becoming human.
The canto of poetry is modulated inside the measure
of time. From generation to generation
vary the tonality, precisely as the
and also change the content.
Every poet, with the characteristic
of his own century,
expresses with his language
a historic moment. Every generation
has its own particular way to conceive the
as human knowledge extends.
The problems and needs that each generation worries about
determine the inclination that each one assumes,
and distinguish one from another. The poetry
space, time, motion, finite and infinite.
Doesn’t intend any purpose, at the most
it can contain a message of peace,
and of exhortation to courage. The poet
Carlo Betocchi prayed:
it is you, Lord, that give me your strength,
twist my eye and watch me in the soul
because the trash be blamed
and praised the courage that reveals it.
As long as mediocrity will exist
Man don’t delude yourself to change the world.
– What shakes the world
is the extreme triggering element
that while moving everything
it leaves everything as before.
Nothing is changed
though the man with anger
believes of the life
to change the infinite essence –
The word that goes into pure hearts comes out
fruitful, and pure spreads in the world.
Giovanni Giudici, the poet, warns:
“do not crave for success, do not make
traffic of influences, to choose the obscurity
may reveal itself the main road to light”.
My poetry has its roots in the ground.
Slowly, slowly grows and flourishes. It flourishes
outside and inside me … where it rises
to the abstract world we came from
and where will be back again.
We will be back there to quench the thirst to the fountain of
the silence, remade shadows.
Outside shadow there isn’t ..
Something inside me rises
into the abstract world of nothingness
where I find again my shadow.
There there are ancient gardens
singing of birds
flowers in ecstasy
leaves with dewy tears
green as hope.
there is the anguish of days injured
the dreary scare of the piovra
Vanished the smiles
Outside shadow there isn’t
Written by RENATO NALE in Italian Language
Translated into English Language by Bastianina Campus
Published, printed by Bastianina Campus