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, not 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 a few:
international magazine The Poet;
Revista Azahar who edited the first Sylloge 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; Magazine Polis; rank of minister in the Order of the Titan and publication of a lyric in Octobermania;
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;
Different Truths social journalism platform;
Cisne Magazine Digital;
Humanity St. Petersburg magazine; fourth Panorama International Literature Festival 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 their lives free, and furthermore 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
это не пасха
если нет Мира
это не Воскресший Христос
это не свет
если ты мужчина
а потом после
из твоих мыслей
в твоих венах
и в твоем сердце.
©Авторское право Франческо Фаветта
Beauty, truth, silence, time and love
And time came to knock on the door of silence, beauty answered from the other side: there’s no one here, nothing!
Beauty said, at the time, that she was waiting impatiently: you can only find the truth, in this place, but she is silent, she does not speak, she is silent!
From afar, footsteps could be heard, light, soft: it was love!
Toc, toc, toc: three knocks on the door, they were given by love.
Who is it, again, knocking on the door, – with a fairly sustained tone -, asked the beauty: it’s me, answered love!
What are you looking for here? she asked love, the eternal sentinel: beauty.
Love then, in a soft and decisive voice, said: I seek the truth, I know it lives here!
Beauty could not fail to confirm to love that it was correct, right, of what it was aware of: yes, it is true, the truth, has always lived here, and I, eternal guardian, will preserve its integrity !
Thus it was, from that moment, from that day that, every time time and eternal beauty merge with silence, and love also unites with them: the rare truth, silent soul, takes shape and emerges from the torpor of inner life, to be reborn as a phoenix!
Beauty, truth, silence, time and love live together eternally: because their marriage is a rare gift!
From personal reflection
©Copyright Francesco Favetta.
At the table of values
Knock, Knock, Knock:
It’s me, – answered a voice – I’m the truth: open up, I have to go in, because I have so many things to say, tell!
Please take a seat, come in, consider yourself as if you were at his house.
Well: he exclaimed the truth!
Then, I can proceed.
Ladies and Gentlemen, present here tonight, I, the truth, have many things to tell you and to reveal to you, but I do not see around this table, seated: humility, conscience, courage and freedom.
Therefore, with the utmost rigor and strength, I will have to tell you that, as long as conscience is in the dark, courage is mute, humility trampled on, and freedom sold to the highest bidder: I, who am the truth, and am not , and I will never be for sale, but rather, I’m silent, in a corner, waiting for love, the only master of the house, of human life, to make its voice heard; even if, then, as always, the lives will be mutilated by the ferocity of the greedy man by inner nature!
Even today, the truth goes around, knocking on the doors of houses, but never finds those sacred values seated around that table: humility, courage, conscience and freedom; values and children of love, imprinted over the centuries: in the deepest interiors of simple souls!
From personal reflection
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
“The Conscious Man”
One day, a dream, she knocked on a man’s heart: knock, knock, the noise echoed, at the live touch of the dream.
She answered the man.
It’s me: the dream, is anyone there?
Yes, I’m here, I’m here, I’m the man!
Well, he said, the dream.
I come to you, man, because it has been, for a very long time, that you no longer dream, you have abandoned your fantasies, you have reduced yourself to a pile of flesh and cells, no longer capable of reflection and knowing how to live with dignity and poetry in Heart!
Yes it’s true, the man nodded and confirmed, you see he continued, turning to the dream: my life has now been extinguished for some time now, the light that previously burned inwardly in my heart has faded, and is slowly going out.
I, always the man, continuing my speech: I’m tired, I no longer have the strength, every now and then I raise my head, I look for you, dream, everywhere, in every corner, but I can’t find you, I’m desperate, I believe that , now my life is at sunset!
The dream answered full point and in a peremptory tone.
You man, you have lost sight of everything, you no longer see yourself, you don’t look at your soul, your heart!
You see, dearest man, the dream continued to say, turning decisively and forcefully to the man: you must scrutinize, search within yourself, it is there, in the folds of your soul, in your most hidden corners, that the dream is dormant, it rests, languishes, without being able to do or say anything.
It’s there, there in you!
Wake it up, shake it!
Let your words descend to your heart, take the values that you have kept in your soul, and then, make sure that your heart, the values and the dream join hands, and break the chains that imprison the their strength, their breath and the freedoms segregated at the bottom of the prisons, secret cells, of your daily life, man!
Thus it was that the man awakened, and became: “the Conscious Man”.
From personal reflection at night ©Copyright Francesco Favetta