San Valentino, protettore degli innamorati … tomorrow is his special day. It’s also that one day a year when we are officially expected to be all soppy and romantic … yuk!

So many ways to celebrate that special day with your beloved: Cioccolatini a forma di cuore, un mazzo di rose rosse, bigliettini pieni di frasi sdolcinate, una serenata d’amore cantata sotto la finestra a mezzanotte, una cena romantica al lume di candela con il tuo cane … cosa diavolo …?
(Heart shaped chocolates, a bunch of red roses, cards full of soppy phrases, a love serenade beneath the window at midnight, a romantic candlelit dinner with your dog … what the …?

I love poetry, but am unable to write it, at least not in any way that satisfies me. So although I’d like to have written you all una poesia d’amore I’ve cheated instead, and looked through my many poetry books for something suitable.

But here’s the strange thing: why do the majority of romantic poems have to simper on about lost love, the poet’s dying/dead lover, or the love story that never actually was. Naturally, it’s far easier to idealise someone with whom you never have to share the toilet, who doesn’t leave their dirty underwear lying on the floor next to the bed for days, or put things back in the fridge in the WRONG DAMN PLACE!!!

So … after much searching, I finally chose something by the great Italian poetess Alda Merini. Through her poetry, Merini exorcises her inner torment and longing for love with such delicate sensitivity. Her poems are like dreams in which anything is possible.

‘Amore, vola da me’ di Alda Merini

Amore, vola da me
con l’aeroplano di carta
della mia fantasia,
con l’ingegno del tuo sentimento.
Vedrai fiorire terre piene di magia
e io sarò la chioma d’albero più alta
per darti frescura e riparo.
Fa’ delle due braccia
due ali d’angelo
e porta anche a me un po’ di pace
e il giocattolo del sogno.
Ma prima di dirmi qualcosa
guarda il genio in fiore
del mio cuore.

‘Love, fly to me’ by Alda Merini

Love, fly to me
with the paper plane
of my fantasy,
with the ingenuity of your feeling.
You’ll see blossoming lands full of magic
and I’ll be the canopy of the highest tree
to give you cool and shelter.
Make with your arms
two angel’s wings
and bring to me a little peace as well
and the toy of  dreams.
But before you say anything to me
look at the flowering genius
of my heart.

My other blogs about Alda Merini:

Omaggio ad Alda Merini, poetessa

An Italian Poetess