{"id":12027,"date":"2016-07-06T09:00:15","date_gmt":"2016-07-06T07:00:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=12027"},"modified":"2016-06-30T21:55:31","modified_gmt":"2016-06-30T19:55:31","slug":"an-italian-poetess","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/an-italian-poetess\/","title":{"rendered":"An Italian Poetess"},"content":{"rendered":"<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\"><span style=\"color: #808080\"><span style=\"color: #666699\">I was in the mood for a poem. A poem full of beautiful words, which played with words in unexpected ways, a poem which was just plain poetry, music to my ears. So after much reading I finally turned to one of my favourite Italian poets,<strong> Alda Merini<\/strong> (1931-2009) known as <strong>la poetessa dei Navigli<\/strong> (the poetess of the Navigli), from the canals which run through her home town, Milano. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\"><a href=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441.jpg\" aria-label=\"Alda Merini 1441\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-12040\"  alt=\"alda-merini-1441\" width=\"800\" height=\"322\" \/ src=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441.jpg\" srcset=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441.jpg 800w, https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441-350x141.jpg 350w, https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441-768x309.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\">Alda Merini never disappoints me, I love the way in which she juxtaposes words and then forges them in the crucible of her poetry. But perhaps it&#8217;s better to let Alda speak for herself and describe to us what poetry means to her.<\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\">From the 1997 collection of poems <strong>&#8220;La volpe e il sipario&#8221;<\/strong> (The fox and the stage curtain):<\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\"><span style=\"color: #333333\"><strong><em>Io non ho bisogno di denaro.<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> Ho bisogno di sentimenti,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> di parole, di parole scelte sapientemente,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> di fiori detti pensieri,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> di rose dette presenze,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> di sogni che abitino gli alberi,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> di canzoni che facciano danzare le statue,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> di stelle che mormorino<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> all\u2019orecchio degli amanti.<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> Ho bisogno di poesia,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> questa magia che brucia<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> la pesantezza delle parole,<\/em><\/strong><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <strong><em> che risveglia le emozioni e d\u00e0 colori nuovi.<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\"><span style=\"color: #333333\"><em>I don&#8217;t need money.<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> I need feelings,<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> words, wisely chosen words,<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> flowers called thoughts,<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> roses called presences<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> dreams that live in the trees,<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> songs that make the statues dance,<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> stars that whisper<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> in the lovers&#8217; ear.<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> I need poetry,<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> this magic that burns<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> the heaviness of the words,<\/em><\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #333333\"> <em> that awakens emotions and creates n<\/em>ew colours.<\/span><\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\"><strong><em>La mia poesia \u00e8 alacre come il fuoco<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> trascorre tra le mie dita come un rosario.<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> Non prego perch\u00e9 sono un poeta della sventura<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> che tace, a volte, le doglie di un parto dentro le ore,<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> sono il poeta che grida e che gioca con le sue grida,<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> sono il poeta che canta e non trova parole,<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> sono la paglia arida sopra cui batte il suono,<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> sono la ninna nanna che fa piangere i figli,<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> sono la vanagloria che si lascia cadere,<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> il manto di metallo di una lunga preghiera<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em> del passato cordoglio che non vede la luce.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\"><em>My poetry is as brisk as fire<\/em><br \/>\n<em> flows through my fingers like a rosary.<\/em><br \/>\n<em> I don&#8217;t pray because I&#8217;m a poet of misfortune<\/em><br \/>\n<em> who sometimes doesn&#8217;t talk about the long lasting labour pains,<\/em><br \/>\n<em> I&#8217;m the poet who screams and plays with her own screams,<\/em><br \/>\n<em> I&#8217;m the poet who sings and can&#8217;t find words,<\/em><br \/>\n<em> I&#8217;m the dry straw upon which the sound beats,<\/em><br \/>\n<em> I&#8217;m the lullaby that makes the children cry,<\/em><br \/>\n<em> I&#8217;m the vainglory that let&#8217;s itself fall,<\/em><br \/>\n<em> the metallic mantle of a long prayer<\/em><br \/>\n<em> from the past grief that cannot see the light.<\/em><\/p>\n<p lang=\"en-GB\" style=\"text-align: justify\">You can read more about Alda Merini in here: <span style=\"color: #000080\"><strong><a style=\"color: #000080\" href=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/omaggio-ad-alda-merini-poetessa\/\" target=\"_blank\">Omaggio ad Alda Merini<\/a><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<img width=\"350\" height=\"141\" src=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441-350x141.jpg\" class=\"attachment-post-thumbnail size-post-thumbnail wp-post-image tmp-hide-img\" alt=\"\" decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" srcset=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441-350x141.jpg 350w, https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441-768x309.jpg 768w, https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2016\/06\/alda-merini-1441.jpg 800w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 350px) 100vw, 350px\" \/><p>I was in the mood for a poem. A poem full of beautiful words, which played with words in unexpected ways, a poem which was just plain poetry, music to my ears. So after much reading I finally turned to one of my favourite Italian poets, Alda Merini (1931-2009) known as la poetessa dei Navigli&hellip;<\/p>\n<p class=\"post-item__readmore\"><a class=\"btn btn--md\" href=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/an-italian-poetess\/\">Continue Reading<\/a><\/p>","protected":false},"author":19,"featured_media":12040,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"content-type":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[625,292148,385875],"class_list":["post-12027","post","type-post","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-alda-merini","tag-italian-poetry","tag-italian-poets"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12027","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/19"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12027"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12027\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12043,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12027\/revisions\/12043"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/12040"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12027"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12027"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12027"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}