Anna Ferriero, Italian poet, WNWU member 2019, honorary doctorate 2020, IFCH member 2022, International Ambassador of Peace 2023 (India, Bangladesh), Naji Naaman Literary Prize 2020. She is the editor of two collections of poems: MAGIA D’AMORE (collection of poems – 2015 LER), PUNTO, Oltre l’Orizzonte (collection of poems Albatros IlFilo 2016), LA CRYPTA DEI DESDIERI (narrative 2016 – Vitale Edizioni), OMBRE ALLO SPECCHIO (narrative 2016 – Vitale Edizioni). Her poems have been translated into many languages (the most recent being Yoruba). She has won many national and international awards and recognitions. She is in Italy Journalistic Grand Prize for Social Merit 2023 (Between words and infinity). She is a translator, reviewer, editor of articles, literary collaborator of various national and international newspapers. Her permanent works are: AZAHAR (Spain) and GUNCEL SANAT (Turkey) where she is also the representative of Italy in Turkey.
ANNA FERRIERO
AUGUST
Breathe a star
when you feel like summer
in the most beautiful air
scent of peace.
Listen to your sky
when it’s incessant rain.
Breathe that dawn
while you wait for a star
YAKAMOZ
New inspiration,
on air,
my life non-stop
scents of the moon,
nascent,
stealthily
they joke politely,
in enthusiasm
one hour before sunset
when the sea closes again
with silence and great anticipation:
everything in blue is redecorated.
The show opens,
it’s party time
gold, blue and turquoise
by the seagulls on the seashore
between Asia and a bit of Europe
are reflected at the border,
in harmony
giving a new dream, global hope
of an exceptional journey,
a natural aquarium
to live every time,
with still deep love
touching towards the East
the reflection of the moon,
new sparkling note
when the only full moon
in the orchestra he can dance
THE NIGHT
In the lighthouse of the night
the light that never dies
In the gaze of Love
there is a heartbeat hidden
In the depths of a thought
the purest desire
MR BIRD
Rebel and traitor
its look hermetic
harmless,
it is cursed by mortals,
They
fugitives at the signal of it.
Of anguish and pestilence
of intolerant loves
late at night, in the great cold
It
is the Lord of Arizona.
Between Egyptians and Persians
It
is the moon of death
wandering with an axe
up to the Nigerian Sea
looking for welcome, breathless
in the form of an Apache.
Pendants and drums
they honor the Great Chief
between dances and long verses
blesses his followers,
the poets of the night
SKIN
Light
through the emerald gaze
Waves
through sound breathing
Rebirth
through shell sweat
Kiss
shy flatterer
silky
his sweet touch
in sea caress
deep
in painted velvet
Illustration : Preety Deb
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