Γράφει η Eva Petropoulou Lianou
Short autobiographical note
The poet Emanuela Rizzo was born in Galatina on 15/09/1978 and moved to Parma in 1997 to his
studies, where he graduated in Political Economy in 2002. Always passionate about art and poetry,
she is present on various websites and blogs with her poems. It is part of various cultural
associations and organizes and participates in various cultural events. His poems are published in various Italian and foreign anthologies. Present in the anthology Briciole di Poesia 2019 and 2020
and in the Albanian anthology by Arjan Kallco which contains poems by international poetesses 2020 edition, in the ebook Un cielo di poesia 2019 and in the anthology international voices of poetry of the world 2020 publisher Marlene Pasini. In 2021 his first collection of poems will be published with the Bertoni Editore ÷ “A heart of prickly pear”. Received several awards of merit for cultural
commitment. The first recognition was received in 2020 by Marlene Pasini for the initiative
#iostoacasaequestaseravileggounapoesia. In the same year he received it from Lisette Fernandez
and from the Orquidea de Venezuela Association and from Maria Caruso Benecchi from the Silentia
Lunae Association, coordinator of the cultural events of the Castle of Music. She loves nature and is
a firm supporter of the defense of beauty. He participated in the Art Biennale in honor of the painter
Sandro Greco, whose art critic was Gillo d’Orfles with two of his poems. Always engaged on various
fronts in the social field, she finally decides to publish her first collection, which is a summary of his
affections and passions, all turned into verse. During the period of the pandemic, several articles
were written on the initiative she launched on the web #iostoacasaequestaseravileggounapoetry
with which he involved poets and not from all over the world to make poetry reading videos during
the closing period at home. In 2021, always within the #iostoacasaequestaseravileggounapoesia
initiative he is translating several predominantly oriental poets. Since 2021 he is a member of the
World Nations Writers’ Union Kazakhstan and Peace Love Member of IIda.
Rainy Christmas
The spectrum of the covid
the flooded streets,
it covered the snow
anxieties and fears.
Distant in the body
of flesh and prayers,
we waited hopefully
new comet stars.
In everyone’s manger
we huddled at a distance,
not being able to do anything else
this Christmas
rain,
but resistant to love,
resistant to the bitter end
Poetry at the time of the covid Black clouds gather In this uncertain time, kisses are clouds of heart pillows and hugs that look like us. It will be said that at the time of the covid, when you could, we huddled closer, for fear to transform in digital hearts and leave no trace of the primordial nature of our skin flaps. We will all remember, that at the time of the covid, the world changed under our eyes and we will remember those were our last embraces of flesh before a new era. We will be the ones which, romantically, they tried to save the soul of humanity, reading, with a faint voice, full of fears and hopes, eternity in a poem, to which we would never have said goodbye.
A parachute of freedom
In the naive dreams of a child,
a colorful kite to follow
in its flight free
in the sky.
In the meantime of a dream coveted,
a parachute flight,
my butterfly wings wounds.
Hold back my dreams
with an unpredictable pace,
of a tumultuous life,
made of needles of light
in the flesh.
Courses and appeals
that Vico remembered
to a deaf world,
I have always
recognized them,
in my visions,
far-sighted.
Yet I still dream,
to see me fly
Between the clouds,
landing on a meadow
of daisies, simple,
like my child soul,
dressed in white,
in his waiting coat
of a sweaty hope,
hugging a parachute
of freedom.
The little path of happiness
I walked with confidence
in a path of small steps,
surrounded by incredulous eyes
for my incessant journey.
Many were wondering
how did I do it
not to ask questions to heaven
given the uncertain future.
There are no certainties,
life is an uncertain path,
every living being knows.
In fact the flower blooms,
offers its perfume,
not knowing if a storm will come,
a rushing wind
that will steal its petals
to bring them back to the earth.
So walk
in your path of small steps,
every now and then stop,
taste the world,
sweet and sour taste,
bathed in light,
dew of the earth
and in that tiny moment,
of that molecule of light,
rejoice and thank.
