The poet Francesco Favetta was born in Sicily in Sciacca, he has always loved poetry, writing verses, but above all culture, food for the soul: culture is Freedom, it is Free Spirit, it is Soul in Movement, it should never be harnessed !
In 2018 he was awarded by the Accademia di Sicilia, Academician of Sicily.
He has been published in various anthologies and in various magazines, among which we mention some:
international magazine The Poet;
Revista Azahar who edited the first collection of poems in Spanish: Encantamiento y Palabras como Plumas;
Anthology The Silk Road Anthology: Nano Poems for Africa; “Poetic Galaxy Atunis”;
WorldSmith International Editorial; OPA The Poetry Journal; Inumbrable magazine; Polis magazine; rank of minister in the Order of the Titan and publication of a lyric in Octobermania;
the international literary magazine Kavya Kishor in Bangladesh;
international journal of language, literature and culture “Petrushka Nastamba” Serbia; international magazine, Namaste India and Certificate of Appreciation;
social journalism platform Different Truths;
Cisne digital magazine;
Humanity St. Petersburg magazine; fourth International Festival of Literature Panorama Spain, delegate for Italy.
He founded a theater company in Sciacca: “Theatrum Socialis Sciacca”, and a Lions Club, the “Sciacca Terme”.
Finally, the poet Francesco Favetta is convinced that poetry will be the weapon with which humanity will make its life free, and furthermore that beauty will always be a truth that will never be buried:
from the times and events of daily human lifeb! Francesco Favetta Sicily (Sciacca) Italy
In my silences
Hold my hand
do not leave me
when your breath
will be absent
out of my eyes.
Love me still
like when small
in your arms
and your kiss
gave me so much love.
Still your thoughts
your arms
your every step
i hear
in my life.
In my silences
of beloved son
your answers
they were my certainties
the strength of the days.
Dad and mom
you are in the heart
eternally
in the stars and in the sky
in every corner of my body.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta.
They were my parents!
Calloused hands
from hard work
clenched fists
on bare knuckles
freedom vibrated.
Sweat and dreams
many thoughts
on the shoulders
streams of memories
life stories.
They were my parents
humble workers
they smelled of bread
freshly baked
wedges of durum wheat.
It stays in the mouth
still the taste
of their work
music for the palate
bakery artists.
In the dawns of the city
the intense smell of their work
invaded the squares and streets
a party for the people
always full of joy.
And I still drown
my emotions
in cherished memories
of the moments lived
with my parents.
Great dignities
polished from hard rock
of the inner soul
excavated engravings
inside the heart.
It was them
my parents
dad and mom
unique and happy
always in love.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta.
Always ready smiles!
With the hands
earth dirty
sweat on the forehead
so tired and hungry
they were the little wonders
warrior hearts
the battles of many parents
of other times
great hard workers
tireless workers
safe havens for families
faces wrinkled by time
walk united in faith
hand in hand
of the mate.
The smell of warm bread
always on the table
those seeds never violated
the big love
locked up in pain
work under the sun
that stole from rest
a long time
but he honored
and gave dignity
they were the parents
calloused hands
than once
those ever ready smiles
to life and freedoms.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
Моему Отцу!
Мой отец
Мой отец
дыхание никогда не устаёт
скромного человека
внутри вас
сталь и сердце
и всегда совет
и эмоциональная кровь.
Мой отец
зарезервированный родитель
глубокая душа
в тишине твоей жизни
дом правды
рабочий с грязными руками
пота на лбу.
Мой отец
много шагов в тишине
по следам твоей старой любви
всегда растянутый в вашей плоти
в глазах дух жизни
никогда не грустная улыбка
в твое лицо.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
©Авторское право Франческо Фаветта
