Le mie rime per te (Gli emersi poesia) (Italian Edition)

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Non esiste modo per sfuggire al pegno. Si vis me flere, flendum est. Saranno stati i conquistatori forse per segnare una via. Il sole e la pioggia penetrano deboli nella vegetazione sento oscuri fruscii venire da ogni direzione qui vi sono migliaia di animali che volano camminano strisciano. No problems sir…sure no problems mi guardo intorno. Look sir , many bats! Oh cristo anche i pipistrelli ci sono e grandi pure. Su forza On y va! I pipistrelli dormono beati riscendiamo le scale molto lentamente. Like Us On Facebook. John Monfasani and Ronald G. Musto New York, , pp.

Yet his madrigals ventured more dramatic and expressive gestures than Willaert's. They contrasted melodies that were sometimes more cantabile than Willaert would invent, at other times rougher and more irregular. Such biographical fragments as survive about Willaert and Rore might tentatively be related to differences in their music. As a servant to Italian patrons from or and chapelmaster of San Marco from , Willaert's connection with the Venetian establishment seems relatively straightforward. Contemporary accounts saw in him the mythological personification of Venice, an embodiment of the modest reserve demanded of its nobles and figured in its stately images.

City Culture and the Madrigal at Venice

In his pupil Girolamo Parabosco's comedy La notte called him "so kind, gentle, and modest that one could set him as an example of all manner of other virtues. Willaert was thus an arm of the state whose position demanded unfaltering loyalty to the republic's self-image and its long-standing ideals. The Procuratori approved Willaert's suitability in the record of his appointment with the epithet "circumspectus vir" a deliberate or cautious man , [17] a characterization on which numerous variations were rung in popular literature during his subsequent tenure. Thus, despite his northern origins — and, as we will see, despite the fact that he enjoyed the private patronage of the elite Florentine nobleman Neri Capponi — Willaert was wholly assimilated to a Venetian image and made instrumental in its representation.

Rore's orientation to Venetian cultural and musical habits is far more ambiguous. His biography remains cratered despite information that he probably resided in Brescia from at least until possibly or It seems doubtful that he ever lived in Venice, except perhaps briefly early in his career and then without a regular appointment. Only two documents allude to such a relationship between them: Mark's at the Time of Adrian Willaert A Documentary Study" Ph.

On Rore's trip s to Venice, where he delivered compositions to Capponi, see Chap. But these tell us only in fact that in the late forties some people in Venice had begun to describe Rore as a follower of Willaert's practice. It is rather more pointed testimony to an association with Florentine exiles. Yet in their broad contours, if not their idiomatic details, Rore's madrigals of the s embrace a style whose identity is otherwise exclusively the province of composers resident in Venice and the Veneto: Any attempt to explain Venice's effect on the course of secular music through its larger cultural themes, then, will be complicated both by the elusive genealogy of Venetian madrigal writing and by the complex and tacit place its various incarnations occupied in the city's larger cultural patterns.

It may be all the more significant, therefore, that one of the few from a Venetian dominion, a native of nearby Chioggia, became the foremost explicator and apologist for the Venetian idiom. Gioseffo Zarlino, theorist, teacher, and later chapelmaster, played a crucial role in clarifying for later generations the aesthetic impulses and compositional habits of contemporaneous Venetian musicians. His first publication, the imposing Istitutioni harmoniche of , assumed the daunting task of codifying a style whose constant shifts and irregularities made it all but impossible to systematize.

In this his role was unique, for his exegeses of Venetian counterpoint, modes, and text setting were only faintly anticipated by his predecessors and abandoned by his successors. Chief among the former is the Venetian Giovanni del Lago, whose sketchy, derivative writings from around only hint at the new horizons. Without this written witness we would have virtually nothing from the mouths of musicians themselves. More plentiful explanations of Venetian thinking come from literati, whose accounts complement those of del Lago and Zarlino.

Literary figures wrote abundantly on poetics, vernacular style, grammar, imitation, the questione della lingua, and genre, and in a wide range of forms: The large, rapid production of these. Lowinsky as evidence that everyone in Venice knew Rore to have been Willaert's pupil; see his " Calami sonum ferentes: Chicago, , 2: Yet the term used there is discepolo, like that in the title page of the print, Fantasie, et ricerchari a tre voci RISM 34 also printed by Girolamo Scotto , a term that often meant "follower" i.

Ultimately, musical and literary writings of mid-cinquecento Venice illuminate one another, both of them translating Ciceronian precepts of style while imposing on them their own idiosyncrasies and formal demands. In some way, virtually all these theoretical writings were dominated by the Venetian Pietro Bembo's dialogue on the questione della lingua, Prose della volgar lingua of , a work whose relevance to secular music has been recognized for some time. Bembo's Prose recast Ciceronian rhetorical precepts in the terms of trecento Tuscan literary style. In this study I take Bembo's transformations of Ciceronian canons as central to a tropology of Venice that interconnects civic identity, rhetorical principles, and expressive idioms.

Three of these canons were most crucial to Bembo's scheme: I argue that Bembo merged Venetian mythology with ancient rhetoric in a way that made one particular meaning of decorum — that of moderation — the all-embracing, universal principle of his stylistics; and further, that this principle functioned as an inseparable corollary of variazione, calling the latter into service as a means of tempering extremes in order to avoid too intense an emphasis on any one style or affect.

In proposing this scheme Bembo claimed Petrarch as his model for the vernacular lyric. Bembo's Prose tried to codify and make imitable Petrarch's rime for readers whose linguistic style he hoped to shape.

Yet Petrarch's lyrics had already come to hold an unequalled appeal for the indigenous society that formed Bembo's most eager audience. Among the aspects of Petrarchan verse that appealed to Bembo and to the rhetorical culture for which he wrote was its delicate interplay of verbal sounds as Dean Mace has pointed up. This is the facet of his poetics that has commanded the greatest attention of music historians, interested in its effect on contemporaneous madrigalists.

Nonetheless, I argue that Petrarch's continual undercutting of verbal utterance through oxymoron and paradox symbolized even more importantly the reserve on which Venetians claimed to insist in other domains. Coupled with its intricate plays of verbal-psychic wit, this poetics, not surprisingly, entranced a society bound by civic habit to discreet emotional display and simultaneously absorbed in a stylized self-presentation. By explicating Petrarch in Ciceronian terms, Bembo implicitly located his lyrics in the performative domain.

So doing he underscored the concerns and biases of his Venetian readers and granted them what must have seemed a deeply satisfying endorsement and an irrefutable authority. In the succeeding pages I try to enlarge these themes to consider Venice's signal role in steering Italian secular music on a new course. Enlargement in this sense means something like the magnification one gets when peering through a lens. For in drawing repeatedly on sources like Tomitano's letter that stand outside the immediate business of making madrigals, I try to picture close up the intricate cultural weave of which madrigals were a part and to reconstruct aspects of its palpable form.

My aim is not to find in these far-flung sources exact mirrors of the madrigalists' ideals or the aesthetic structures they built. Rather, it is to develop, figuratively speaking, a colloquy between various players in Venice and to discover in the city's multiple texts a way to contemplate the diverse meanings and eclectic processes that involved madrigals in larger cultural patterns.

On the path to finishing this book I received invaluable help from many institutions and countless friends and colleagues. A Fellowship for University Teachers from the National Endowment for the Humanities provided me with an indispensable year's leave from teaching, during which most of the writing was done. To all of these I am deeply appreciative. My work was helped by the staffs of many libraries and archives, of which I would like to acknowledge especially: At the University of California Press I benefited from the expert skills of my acquisitions editor Doris Kretschmer and project editor Rose Vekony and from astute copyediting by Fronia W.

I am grateful for helpful comments I received from two readers solicited by the press, James Haar, a longtime source of stimulating dialogue on Italian madrigals, and Dean Mace. I hope I can be forgiven for mentioning just a fraction of the many other people who have helped me along the way: Many of them are thanked in footnotes where it has been possible to point to a particular debt. There are several others whose roles I must acknowledge more specially. Tita Rosenthal offered probing comments and copious bibliographical advice on Chapters 1 through 6 and made Venice an altogether richer place for me.

Gary Tomlinson, at first the advisor on my dissertation, has since been a continual interlocutor on madrigals and histories. He knows how important our conversations have been to me over many years, for which I could not begin to thank him here. My friend and colleague Howard Mayer Brown gave me many lively conversations and insights on cinquecento music and countless other topics, scholarly and otherwise.

Before his sudden death in Venice on 20 February , every page of this book was intended to elicit his sharp reading. At every turn my husband, Thomas Bauman, has contributed his critical acuity as well as his remarkable skills as a writer, linguist, musician, editor, and computer whiz. I have been abashed and touched by his colossal support over all this time. And I have been blessed by the good humor, affection, and patience of Emily and Rebecca Bauman. Finally a few words about the dedication.

I take leave of this project deeply aware that what I have tried to envision in the nexus of people's language, their pictures, their music, and their city had its origins in my parents' house. The example they gave me to imagine worlds beyond our own cannot be measured in words. I dedicate this book to them with the sort of tender appreciation that the frailty of life makes only sweeter. Mid-sixteenth-century Venice was arrayed in such a way that no single mogul, family, or neighborhood was in a position to monopolize indigenous activity in arts or letters.

Venice was a city of dispersal. Laced with waterways, the city took its shape from its natural architecture. The wealthy houses of the large patriciate, scattered throughout the city's many parishes, kept power bases more or less decentralized. Apart from the magnetic force of San Marco — the seat of governmental activities and associated civic ritual — no umbrella structure comparable to that of a princely court brought its people and spaces into a single easily comprehended matrix.

As a commercial and maritime city, Venice offered multiplicity in lieu of centralization. It offered rich possibilities for dynamic interchange between the wide assortment of social and professional types that constantly thronged there — patricians, merchants, popolani, tourists, students, seamen, exiles, and diplomats. Local patricians contributed to this decentralization by viewing the whole of the lagoon as common territory rather than developing attachments to particular neighborhoods — a quality in which they differed from nobles of many other Italian towns.

Since most extended families owned properties in various parishes and sestieri the six large sections into which the city still divides , neighborhoods had only a circumscribed role as bases of power and operation; indeed, it was not uncommon for nuclear families to move from one parish to another. The great exception was patrician women. Their lives outside the home were basically restricted to their immediate parishes, at least so long as their nuclear families stayed in a single dwelling see Romano, pp. In this, Venetian practice reflected generalized sixteenth-century attitudes that tended to keep women's social role a domestic one.

Women's Love Lyric in Europe, Indianapolis, , pp. We can easily imagine that Venetian salon life profited from the constant circulation of bodies throughout the city, as well as from the correlated factors of metropolitan dispersion and the city's relative freedom from hierarchy. Palaces and other grand dwellings constituted collectively a series of loose social nets, slack enough to comprehend a varied and changeable population.

This urban makeup differed from the fixed hierarchy of the court, which pointed structurally, at least to a single power center, absolute and invariable, that tried to delimit opportunities for profit and promotion. There, financial entrepreneurialism and social advancement could generally be attempted only within the strict perimeters defined by the prince and the infrastructure that supported him. The lavish festivals, entertainments, and monuments funded by courtly establishments accordingly concentrated, by and large, on the affirmation of princely glory or, at the very least, tended to mirror more directly the monolithic interests of prince and court.

With less enthusiastic patrons, like Florence's Cosimo I de' Medici beginning in and thus coinciding with the Venetian period I focus on here , centralization and authoritarian control could straitjacket creative production according to the narrowly defined wishes of the ruling elite. In the worst of cases they could suffocate it almost completely. Structural differences between court and city that made themselves felt in cultural production were thus enmeshed with political ones. In contrast to the courts, the Venetian oligarchy thrived on a broad-based system of rule and, by extension, patronage.

Within this system individual inhabitants could achieve success by exploiting the city in the most varied ways — through business, trade, or maritime interests, banking, political offices, academic and artistic activities. Such a pliable setup depended in part on numerous legal mechanisms that, formally at least, safe-guarded equality within the patrician rank. Beyond the Fields of Reason, ed. Iain Fenlon and James Haar, writing on Cosimo I's effect on madrigalian developments in Florence, propose that the end of republican Florence initiated the degeneration of individual patronage dominated by the family.

The Medici restoration, they recall, led to an exodus of painters, sculptors, and musicians from the city The Italian Madrigal, pp. In order to maintain the symmetries of patrician power and an effective system of checks and balances, a large number of magistracies and councils shared the decision-making process, and the vast majority of offices turned over after very brief, often six-month, terms.

This made for a cumbersome, mazelike governmental structure that led many observers to comment wryly on the likeness of topography and statecraft in the city. In the late fifteenth century a complex of attitudes guarding against the perils of self-interest found expression in a series of checks advanced by the ruling group to counter the self-magnifying schemes of several doges — schemes epitomized by the building of triumphal architecture like the Arco Foscari, which verged on representing the doge as divinely ordained.

The patriciate ventured if hesitantly to extend these mechanisms to include some nonpatricians. Despite the inequities and stratification that divided nobles from the next rank of residents on the descending social ladder, the cittadini and even more from the still lower popolani , the Venetian aristocracy by tradition and a long-standing formula for republican success had accustomed itself to making certain efforts to appease classes excluded from governmental rule. The success achieved by the mid-sixteenth century in checking the doges' schemes is attested by the English translator of Gasparo Contarini's De magistratibus, Lewes Lewkenor, who showed astonishment that the patriciate reacted as casually to the death of a doge as to the death of any other patrician: King's interpretation of the interaction of class, culture, and power in quattrocento Venice would argue that the political power of the ruling patrician elite extended far enough into what she calls "the realm of culture" — by which she means the culture of the "humanist group" — as to control them in a unique way see pp.

See also Romano, Patricians and "Popolani," pp. On institutions of charity run by citizens and nobles for popolani see the classic work of Brian Pullan, Rich and Poor in Renaissance Venice: For a study that tries to debunk emphases on Venetian traditions of charity by stressing patrician corruption and the split between civic ideals and reality see Donald E.

Queller, The Venetian Patriciate: Reality versus Myth Urbana and Chicago, Queller's view seems to me equally problematic in invoking an alternate "reality" as true, rather than traversing the dialectics of various realities and representations. They could ship cargo on state galleys. And they maintained the exclusive right to hold offices in the great lay confraternities, the scuole grandi. While many cittadini, as well as plebeians and foreigners, were doomed to frustration in their search for power and position, others experienced considerable social and economic success. At the very least many had come to view their circumstances as malleable, there to be negotiated with the right manoeuvres.

The collective self-identity that promoted various attitudes of equality and magnanimity both within and without the patriciate was expressed with considerable fanfare in official postures. Gradually, the underlying ideals had come to be projected in numerous iconic variations on the city's evolving civic mythology. By the fourteenth century, for instance, Venice added to its mythological symbolism the specter of Dea Roma as Justice, seated on a throne of lions and bearing sword and scales in her two hands Plate 4. By such a ploy the city extended its claim as the new Rome while reminding onlookers of its professed fairness, its balanced constitution, and its domestic harmony.

This conjunction of morality and might was reiterated in a series of bird's-eye maps, the most remarkable of which was Jacopo de' Barbari's famous woodcut of Plate 5. Set at the extremities of its central vertical axis are powerful representations of Mercury atop a cloud and Neptune riding a spirited dolphin Plate 6 — iconography as vital to the city's image as its serpentine slews of buildings and its urban backwaters.

Venice's geography played a real part in encouraging the city's social elasticity. The circuitous structure of the lagoon made for a constant rubbing of elbows between different classes that Venetians seemed to take as a natural part of daily affairs. When the eccentric English traveler Thomas Coryat visited the city in the.

On the role of the cittadini as members of the secretarial class see Oliver Logan, Culture and Society in Venice, See also Deborah Howard, Jacopo Sansovino: For a single poetic example in which Venice is linked with Justice, see Chap. The peculiar habits Coryat observed among the Venetian aristocracy accord with its ideological rejection of showy displays of personal spending expressly forbidden by strict sumptuary laws — displays that were de rigueur in court towns like nearby Ferrara and Mantua.

Big outlays of cash were supposed to be reserved mainly for public festivals that glorified the Venetian community as a whole. In the private sphere they could be funneled into lasting investments capable of adding to the permanent legacy of an extended family group, but not in theory made for more transitory or personal luxuries. Many individual cases of self-glorifying osten-. But part of their price was a certain dissonance with established mores, which assigned thrift an emphatic place within the official civic scheme.

Coryat himself characterized the idiosyncratic shopping habits of the patriciate — and, we might note, with considerable qualms — as "a token indeed of frugality. It was one ritualized in any number of ways — to cite a single instance, in the conspicuous insistence on modest burials that one finds repeatedly in Counter-Reformational Venetian wills. Both patricians and nonpatricians acknowledged the custom, as evinced by Willaert's quintessentially Venetian request for a burial "con mancho pompa si possa" with as little pomp as possible.

All of these factors — decentralization, an institutionalized egalitarianism in policy if often not in practice , and the substantial presence of foreign exiles, travelers, businessmen, diplomats, and military men — contributed to Venice's prolific artistic and intellectual domestic life. Yet the snug sociological picture of divided authority and pluralistic harmony that we might tend to draw from them tells only part of the story.

Personal impulses made strange bedfellows with public ideals, and in Venice the latter took their place as only one set of faiths among many others. Venice was above all a paradoxical city. Among the deepest instances of its divided consciousness was that Venetians of the early to mid-sixteenth century who linked themselves to high culture lived in a peculiarly ambivalent counterpose to the court culture from which their city's paradigm was supposed to depart. As a group they prized and flaunted their ideals of freedom, justice, concord, and modesty, while envying much of the apparent exclusivity, homogeneity, and even absolutism that courtly structures seemed to offer.

This tension tempered the civic, rhetorical, social, and aesthetic domains that I aim to draw together here. Let me begin to explore it by turning briefly to the Venetians' manifesto of literary style, Pietro Bembo's Prose della volgar lingua. As I show in Chapter 5, Bembo's Prose advanced a smooth, exclusive diction with the same claims to indisputable authority that tend to characterize aspects of sixteenth-century court production. It translated the harmonious heterogeneity idealized in Venice's oligarchy into the terms of literary style.

The temptation to read the Prose as a conflation of courtly values with Venetian civic ones is encouraged by knowledge of Bembo's upbringing and early adulthood. Although he was inculcated with republican ideals, Bembo's youthful experiences with his father, Bernardo, had been tinged with the court. As a boy in he spent time at the Florentine court of Lorenzo de' Medici, which was attended by the Neoplatonic philosopher.

Marsilio Ficino and the poet-playwright Angelo Poliziano. This, and Bembo's subsequent sojourn at the court of Urbino, helped authorize him to appear as central spokesman on Neoplatonic love in the courtly manual par excellence, Castiglione's dialogue Il cortegiano, first drafted in ; by this time Bembo had already written Books 1 and 2 of the Prose, and he completed Book 3 while serving as papal secretary at still another court, that of Pope Leo X. The intersection of Bembo's biography with Castiglione's text suggests yet another way to consider Venice's codification of courtly values. One of the tropes shared by Il cortegiano and the Prose is that of decorum, which dictates that style should always be modified to suit given occasions and subjects.

If their shared commitment to decorum did not lead each author to the same linguistic and lexical norms, with Bembo advocating a formal Tuscan that diverged from the lingua cortegiana favored by Castiglione, it nonetheless points to deeper impulses that form a common substratum between them. Such impulses are expressed in the persona Castiglione urges on the ideal courtier, a persona rooted in a gestalt that goes beyond the particular form of any momentary rhetorical stance.

Rebhorn has claimed, its essence lies in a perpetual desire to conform to whatever subject or situation is at hand. Castiglione elaborates the notion in Book 2, Chap. Brucker, Renaissance Florence New York, , pp. For a revisionist view that calls into question the elitism and isolationism traditionally thought to typify Ficino's Florentine circle, see Arthur Field, The Origins of the Platonic Academy of Florence Princeton, , esp.

Field's argument however is mainly relevant to conditions of the Florentine context itself, for it rethinks realities of the Laurentian court, rather than the modes by which outsiders typically idealized it. Girolamo Arnaldi and Manlio Pastore Stocchi, vol. A Reassessment of "The Courtier" Edinburgh, , esp. The Ideal and the Real in Renaissance Culture, ed. Hanning and David Rosand New Haven, , esp. All of this stoical decorum adds up to a well-tended, varied performance, as the continuation of Federico's explanation makes clear: Style was varied for effect. Federico elaborates the idea in a lengthy analogy between the courtier's mixing of virtues and the painter's chiaroscuro.

This is what a good painter does when by the use of shadow he distinguishes clearly the light on his reliefs, and similarly by the use of light deepens the shadows of plane surfaces and brings different colors together in such a way that each one is brought out more sharply through the contrast; and the placing of figures in opposition to each other assists the painter in his purpose.

In the same way, gentleness is most impressive in a man who is a capable and courageous warrior; and just as his boldness is magnified by his modesty, so his modesty is enhanced and more apparent on account of his boldness. Yet such contrast must be carried off "discreetly" and without obvious "affectation": Bembo insisted on these qualities for the writer perhaps even more strenuously than Castiglione did for the general courtier.

Like Castiglione, Bembo depoliticized. See also numerous essays in Hanning and Rosand, eds. Ettore Bonora, 2d ed. Ciceronian rhetorical norms in the process, replacing the dynamic involvement with current affairs that inspired Cicero's oratorical model with cerebral ideals of refined detachment.

Courtly ways were no more excised from the elastic social fabric of Venice than from its literary norms; rather they existed in varying degrees of comfort side by side with indigenous republican ones. The model of the princely establishment even had its analogue in the internal structure of the Venetian government. The doge, although an elected official of the state, had minimal control over policy.

He stood in for Venetians as a kind of princely surrogate, divested of real political power but heavily imbued with symbolic force. His principal functions were to guard civic values and to maintain an overarching awareness of public issues. Even the Venetian political historian Gasparo Contarini admitted that the doge's exterior was one of "princely honor, dignitie, and royall appearing shew. The paradox of the doge remains a telling one. As Edward Muir has written, "in this image one can see the nexus at which many of the tensions in Venetian society.

Bouwsma, Venice and the Defense of Republican Liberty: Renaissance Values in the Age of the Counter Reformation Berkeley and Los Angeles, , discusses the tendency in cinquecento Venice toward standardization and fixity in academic matters, relating its presence in Bembo to his lack of interest in contemporary events of historical importance pp. Greene, The Light in Troy: Imitation and Discovery in Renaissance Poetry New Haven, , similarly links the formal perfection sought by Bembo to a "refusal to respond to contemporary history" p.

Carlo Dionisotti, Geografia e storia della letteratura italiana Turin, , notes in "Chierici e laici" that Bembo's detachment from political consciousness and service represents a striking break from an earlier Venetian tradition of the scholar-public servant p. Finally, on the Venetian nobility's retreat from the urban realities of commerce, trade, banking, and shipbuilding in the sixteenth century in favor of more idealized existences linked to mainland farming and real estate see Brian Pullan, "The Occupations and Investments of the Venetian Nobility in the Midto Late-Sixteenth Century," in ibid.

The inherent conflict between Castiglione's monarchism and Bembo's republicanism is taken up by Woodhouse, Baldesar Castiglione, pp. Herein lay another paradox to catch Venetians in an existential bind: This, after all, was the same city that revealed to the artistic world sensuous new realms of color and light and boasted the most beautiful women in Europe. Like its elegant palazzi and gracious waterways, its resistance to invasion, and its invincibility at sea, sensual beauty and luxuriance formed fabled parts of Venetian lore.

Many a foreigner commented on the richness and delights to be had in the city, even while remarking on its odd habits of thrift and modesty. As well as being skilled conversationalists and writers, many of these courtesans were singers, often apparently improvising and accompanying themselves on instruments such as the lute or spinet — this in an age that sheltered women closely and kept most nonpatrician women illiterate.

The honest courtesan's success in sixteenth-century Venice thus offers a paradigm for how the city, with its pliable and equivocal social structures, could become an extraordinary resource for inhabitants not born into a full measure of its benefits. Mayer London, , pp. For further on this see Margaret F.

Rosenthal, The Honest Courtesan: Veronica Franco, Citizen and Writer in Sixteenth-Century Venice Chicago, , whose ideas helped stimulate the interpretations I put forth in the following pages. Ferguson, Maureen Quilligan, and Nancy J. Vickers Chicago, , pp. For an important collection of essays emphasizing the resources offered for the fashioning of identity by the ambiguities and social complexities of early modern city life see Susan Zimmerman and Ronald F.

Renaissance Gender Ideologies and Women's Lyric," Jones proposes what she calls a "pre-poetics," an analysis of "conditions necessary for writing at all" in the "ideological climate of the Renaissance" that is apropos here; in The Poetics of Gender, ed. Miller New York, , pp. A few managed to gain fame through the press, plying the arena of public discourse in order to advance their social and economic positions. The most remarkable of these women was Veronica Franco, a cittadina and daughter of a procuress who became a major poet in the s and an intimate of the literary salon of Domenico Venier.

In one noted instance she parried a detractor by boasting an array of linguistic arms. Franco's bravura served her well in the ambivalent world that cherished the honest courtesan even as it scorned her. Rosenthal and Ann Rosalind Jones have shown, in speaking out in areas where women had been largely silenced, vaunting her proficiencies in the verbal arts and challenging her defamer in the terms of a male duel, Franco violated a gendered system of rhetorical orthodoxies.

Franco was only one of many nonpatricians who ameliorated their marginal social positions by utilizing the city's opportunities for self-promotion and social. Abdelkader Salza Bari, , no. Subverting the Master's Plan," Italica 65 Jones, "City Women and Their Audiences," p. Another, outstanding for our purposes, was Willaert's student, the organist, composer, and vernacular author Girolamo Parabosco, a Piacentine who arrived in Venice around Like her, too, he came from a bourgeois family.

ABBREVIATIONS

In the humble words he professed to Giovanni Andrea dell'Anguillara:. Not his birth but his virtue makes a man worthy of honor, Parabosco claims, not rank but merit. He himself is no nobleman, not to say Tuscan — that is, linguistic aristocratic — but a mere citizen from modest Lombardy. Later in the same capitolo he alludes to his eminent position in the city as if only to thank those in Venice more highly placed than he.

Parabosco's was no mean duty. With this prestigious title, Parabosco held a trump card among literary colleagues in the city's populous salons,. For his biography see Giuseppe Bianchini, Girolamo Parabosco: The will is an ironic reminder of cinquecento disarticulations between the real and the represented: Bianchini, not surprisingly, is credulous on this score; see, for example, pp.

Probably ducato is a pun "ducat" as well as "duchy". His position placed him conveniently betwixt and between — between professional musicians and literati, between nobles and commoners — a situation that made good capital in Venetian society. Elsewhere Parabosco pressed the view that real nobility came from inner worth and not from birthright. His letter to Antonio Bargo of 18 November affected shock at Bargo's attempt to ingratiate him with an unworthy acquaintance, at his wanting him "to believe that it is a good thing to revere men who live dishonorably, so long as they come from honorable families.

Parabosco answered Bargo in the spirit of familiar vernacular invective that had recently been popularized by Pietro Aretino and followers of his like Anton-francesco Doni. In meting out satiric censure in letters, capitoli, and sonetti risposti, Parabosco engaged in complicated strategies of challenge and riposte, wielding his interlocutors' rhetoric to his own ends. Defending his comedies against certain nameless critics in a letter to Count Alessandro Lambertino, for instance, he shot off a battery of rejoinders, the last of which protested that "some benevolence" should be shown him in the city of Venice, since with all his "study, diligence, and labor.

Some years earlier, writing the literary theorist Bernardino Daniello along similar. Antonio amico carissimo, io ho ricevuto la vostra de vinisette del passato, nella qual havete vanamente speso una grandissima fatica, volendomi far credere che sia ben fatto portar riverenza a gli huomini, che dishonoratamente vivono ancora che usciti di honorevole famiglia. Bargo is almost surely the same as Antonio Barges, a Netherlandish maestro di cappella at the Casa Grande of Venice between at least and when he transferred to Treviso and a close friend of Parabosco's teacher Willaert.

Richard Nice Cambridge, , pt. Heather Dubrow and Richard Strier Chicago, , pp. Letter dated 5 August Again his protestations were voiced in the language of Venetian panegyric as it was handed down in civic mythology — or a quasi-satiric inflation of it. Apart from his position on the issue of love, he insisted, he "always spoke of the aged with infinite reverence, especially in this sanctified and blessed Venice, today sole defense of Italy and true dwelling of faith, justice, and clemency, in which there are an infinite number [of old people], any one of whom with his prudence could easily govern the Empire of the whole world.

With these paradoxical rhetorical stances, writers like Franco and Parabosco could avail themselves of transgressive possibilities inherent in the diverse literary genres newly stimulated by Venetian print, yet still align themselves with the prevailing power structure. They were at once iconoclasts and panderers. We will forget him! You and I - tonight! You may forget the warmth he gave - I will forget the light! When you have done, pray tell me That I may straight begin!

Sapevano che l'Assenza avrebbe dato un altro senso a quanto ricordato. The Maple wears a gayer scarf - The field a scarlet gown - Lest I should be old fashioned I'll put a trinket on. Un bottino mirabile - Onestamente guadagnato, spero. He stood as near As stood you here - A pace had been between - Did but a snake bisect the brake My life had forfeit been. That was a wondrous booty - I hope 'twas honest gained. Those were the fairest ingots That ever kissed the spade! Whether to keep the secret - Whether to reveal - Whether as I ponder Kidd will sudden sail - Could a shrewd advise me We might e'en divide - Should a shrewd betray me - Atropos decide!

In un volgere lieve l'infinito riposa: Allor,sorto da ignote nicchie vapora piano Un senso sopra note forma: Non vedo nessun raggio Eppure so che i suoi piedi stillanti Van sempre attorno attorno. I cannot see a spoke Yet know it's dripping feet Go round and round. My foot is on the Tide! An unfrequented road - Yet have all roads A clearing at the end - Some have resigned the Loom - Some in the busy tomb Find quaint employ - Some with new - stately feet - Pass royal thro' the gate - Flinging the problem back At you and I!

Odor d'alcanna, odor di verde. Sulla strada abbiam visto il cimitero di pietre nere ci siamo avvicinati. Le lastre, cadaveri sparsi, lunghi distesi. Le pietre, erte nella loro altezza, marciscono in piedi. Il vento rode loro il cuore e poi se ne va. Diventar polvere, terra immobile. Joyce Lussu -Poesia consigliata da Nino Silenzi-. Sedimento Provo paziente il sedimento del tempo il suo residuo sale sulle cose come patina opaca in nomi a memoria,incerto dono oltre lo sfarsi di neve.

Emanuele Tibaldo -Poesia consigliata da Tinti- Ricordo Fra il tonfo dei marroni e il gemito del torrente che uniscono i lor suoni esita il cuore. Precoce inverno che borea abbrividisce. M'affaccio sul ciglio che scioglie l'albore del giorno nel ghiaccio. Passa l'ultima greggia nella nebbia del suo fiato. Fontana di Roma Due coppe; e l'una che sovrasta l'altra erette entrambe sulla rotonda vasca di pietra antica. Defluisce l'acqua pacatamente, dal superbo labbro, sull'acqua che di sotto attende e posa. E questa tace, mentre l'altra parla un chioccolio sommesso e guarda il cielo che con dischiusa mano in gran mistero quella le svela di tra il verde e il buio, come un'occulta sconosciuta cosa.

Entro la coppa, placida si espande, cerchio da cerchio senza nostalgia. Solo a volte trasogna; e s'abbandona lungo i penduli muschi, a goccia a goccia sino all'infimo specchio che tranquillo svaria d'ombre e di luci e risorride Rainer Maria Rilke -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria D'Amico-. Tre giovani fiorentine camminano Ondulava sul passo verginale ondulava la chioma musicale nello splendor del tiepido sole eran tre vergini e una grazia sola ondulava sul passo virginale crespa e nera la chioma musicale eran tre vergini e una grazia sola e sei piedini in marcia militare.

Paesi Piccoli paesi ignoti che si vedono, passando in treno, alla fine di un giorno sereno: Sembrano come su una scena, posati cubi dipinti intorno alla chiesetta bianca, piccoli paesi ignoti e finti. Solo una sera insieme a voi giacere per farvi dono d'un bacio d'amore! Giappone -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria D'Amico-.

Non celarmi l'infanzia che vivesti. Domanda a DIo che torni il tempo che perdemmo e riavremo quegli anni che senza me vivesti e giocheremo. Ti spio tra le foglie ampie come lingotti di minerale bagnato. Il fiume bianco cresce sotto la nebbia. Allora in un salto di fuoco, sangue, denti, con un colpo d'artiglio abbatto il tuo petto, i tuoi fianchi.

Bevo il tuo sangue, spezzo le tue membra una a una. E resto vegliando per anni nella selva le tue ossa, la cenere, immobile, lontano dall'odio e dalla collera, disarmato nella tua morte, attraversato dalle liane, immobile nella pioggia, sentinella implacabile del mio amore assassino. Carlo Chionne -Poesia consigliata da Tinti Baldini-. La foglia di betulla La foglia di betulla lascia le rame gracili, i chiari giorni son finiti. Non odi richiamare- una voce d'angoscia- l'anatra in mezzo agli acquitrini? Via fugge il tempo. Antonio Debenedetti -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Saffo -Poesia consigliata da Letterio Cassata-.

Ottobre Un tempo, era d'estate, era a quel fuoco, a quegli ardori, che si destava la mia fantasia. Vincenzo Cardarelli -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-. A gara bruciando gli estremi ardori, saranno i nostri cuori due grandi fiaccole, specchianti le loro doppie luci nei nostri spiriti, specchi gemelli. All' anima mia Dell'inesausta tua miseria godi. Umberto Saba -Poesia consigliata da Aurelia Tieghi-. Certezza ed oblio L'unica certezza che invochiamo quella di sentirci ancora vivi l'unico timore che abbiamo morire e nulla di noi sia ricordato.

Alessandro Cecchinato -Poesia consigliata da Tinti Baldini- Il posto di una donna Devi stare attenta alla bocca, soprattutto se sei una donna. Se ogni tanto hai bisogno di urlare, fallo da sola, ma di fronte a uno specchio dove puoi vedere la forma strana che prende la bocca prima che la strofini via. Notte d'estate Dalla stanza vicina ascolto care voci nel letto dove il sonno accolgo. Qui ti stringo al mio cuore, amore mio, morto a me da infiniti anni ormai. Mimnermo -Poesia consigliata da Letterio Cassata-.

Misero nella brama io giaccio esanime, e in cielo voluti crudi dolori l'ossa mi trafiggono. Archiloco -Poesia consigliata da Letterio Cassata-. Dormono cime, abissi, balze e forre, ed ogni creatura dell'alma negra terra: Dormono anche gli uccelli. Alcmane -Poesia consigliata da Letterio Cassata- La rosa di Turi Sai, da un anno in qua, a cicli eterni le stagioni sono in me. Aspetto che compagni ed angeli si uniscano con me. Sollevo gli occhi all'improvviso, vedendo boschi intorno a me, andare in volo nel soffitto, senza dimenticare che Se fingendo, immobile, affronto istanti, pochi secoli in silenzio, ho contato cento sputi e sono qui, ora che il caldo annuncia il gelo, fragile brezza su di me.

Antonio Gramsci -Poesia consigliata da Alessandro Cancian-. Seren o Arso tutto ha l'estate.

Ma torni un dito d'ombra, Ritrova il rosolaccio sangue, E di luna,la voce che si sgrana I canneti propaga. Diverso il tempo sul vortice del frutto; indeclinabile sul corpo che riflette la morte, scivola contorto chiude la presa alla mente, scrive una prova di vita.

Salvatore Quasimodo [da Dare e avere] -Poesia consigliata da Carmen- Todo hombre tiene dos batallas que pelear: Gerne denk ich mir dich als ein besonderes Kind. Antonio Machado -Poesia consigliata da Letterio Cassata-. I dolori superficiali e gli amori superficiali durano. Rileviamo sempre qualcosa di ridicolo nelle persone che abbiamo cessato di amare. E intanto amami, tenero cuore! Ah, posata la fronte sulle tue ginocchia, lascia che assapori, nel rimpianto della torrida bianca estate, il giallo e dolce raggio della fine di stagione! Warte nur, balde Ruhest du auch.

Was soll all der Schmerz und Lust? Nel bosco anche gli uccelli, tutto tace. A che tutto il dolore, a che la gioia? Vieni qui, dolce pace, vieni qui nel mio cuore! Ho trascorso i miei giorni scrivendo e dipingendo, ma non sono in sintonia con i miei giorni e le mie notti. Sono una nube, una nube che si confonde con gli oggetti, ma ad essi mai si unisce.

Keine Luft von keiner Seite! In der ungeheuren Weite Reget keine Welle sich. Nessun alito da nessuna parte. Nell'immenso deserto nessun'onda si muove. Prendimi adesso che fa ancora mattina e che ti reco dalie nuove in mano. Prima che sia notte che la fresca corolla sia avvizzita Amante mio non vedi che diviene ,il convolvo,cipresso?

Ibarbourou Uruguay -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Pure il vento muggia nella foresta e muggia tra le nubi il tuono errante pria che l'aurora in ciel fosse ridesta. O care nubi,o cielo,o terra ,o piante parte la donna mia: S'apre il ciel,cade il soffio,in ogni canto posan l'erbe e le frondi,e m'abbarbaglia le luci il crudo Sol pregne di pianto.

Giacomo Leopardi -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Ero nuda tra le sue mani sotto la gonna alzata nuda come non mai Il mio giovane corpo era tutto una festa dalla punta dei miei piedi ai capelli sulla testa Ero come una sorgente che guidava la bacchetta del rabdomante Noi facevamo il male il male era fatto bene. Felice chi ancora dei nostri passi scorge il segno, chi distingue al poco lume della luna I cipressi di San Michele Alti e muti Sulla laguna Francesco Sassetto -Poesia consigliata da Gianna Faraon-.

Da "La ballata del vecchio marinaio" di Coleridge -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. I tuoi occhi brillavano ancora per me I tuoi occhi brillavano ancora per me, anche se vagavo solitario per terra e mare; come quella lontana stella che vedo, ma che non vede me. Stamattina sono salito sulla collina nebbiosa, ed ho percorso tutti i pascoli, come brillava la tua forma lungo la mia strada fra la rugiada dagli occhi profondi! Non provi un'accorata tenerezza? Non la senti vibrare come un cuore sotto alla tua carezza? Lunghe passeggiate notturne ecco che cosa rasserena l'anima: Che cerchi, poeta, nel tramonto?

Il vento freddo, e la notte che giunge, e l'amarezza della distanza Sul cammino bianco, alberi che nereggiano stecchiti; sopra i monti lontani sangue ed oro Machado -Poesia consigliata da Carmen- Il gioco del silenzio Non so se veramente fu vissuto quel giorno della prima primavera. Ricordo - o sogno? Poi la cascina rustica del colle e la corsa e le grida e la massaia e il rifugio notturno e l'ora folle e te giuliva come una crestaia, e l'aurora ed i canti in mezzo all'aia e il ritorno in un velo di corolle Tuttavia rivedo quel tuo sottile corpo di cinedo, quella tua muta corrugata faccia che par sogni l'inganno od il congedo e che piacere a me par che le spiaccia E ancora mi negasti la tua voce in treno.

Supplicai, chino rimasi su te, nel rombo ritmico e veloce Ti scossi, ti parlai con rudi frasi, ti feci male, ti percossi quasi, e ancora mi negasti la tua voce. Giocosa amica, il Tempo vola, invola ogni promessa. Guido Gozzano -Poesia consigliata da Aurelia Tieghi-. Non oso, non oso scriverlo, se muori. Dove i negri saranno bastonati, io non posso essere morto. Anna Achmatova -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Giardini Ombra verde ombra,verde umida e viva per dove negli anni delira di vividi anni mai avuti un tulipano o una rosa.

Pablo Neruda -Poesia consigliata da Xeka Anileda-. Il ritorno Io torno con le mie ali. Voglio morire essendo alba. Voglio morire essendo ieri. Io torno con le mie ali. Voglio morire essendo sorgente. Voglio morire fuori del mare. Garcia Lorca -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Pipistrello Il pipistrello elisir dell'ombra vero amante delle stelle, morde il tallone del giorno. Nacque con te, ti segue ove ti porta la passione, fa dei peccati tuoi opere buone, d'ogni giudizio ti rimanda assolta. Quanto riguardi tosto a te si vota, offre a te la sua vita. Nell'anima che tu, innocente, hai lesa strana dolcezza lascia, pure al ricordo, la tua voce amara.

Il discorso sulla pace Verso la fine di un discorso estremamente importante il grande statista incespicando davanti al vuoto di una bella frase ci casca dentro e smarrito con la bocca spalancata ansimante mostra i denti e la carie dentaria dei suoi pacifici ragionamenti mette a nudo il nervo della guerra la delicata questione di denaro. Ci sono cose da fare di giorno lavarsi ,studiare,giocare preparare la tavola a mezzogiono. Ci sono cose da fare di notte chiudere gli occhi per dormire aver sogni da sognare orecchie per sentire. Gianni Rodari -Poesia consigliata da Tinti per il 21 settembre e per tutti i giorni a venire-.

Le rondini in deliziose cappe di raso nero dattilografavano il risveglio dettato dall'aurora. Farfa ovvero Vittorio Tommasini,futurista -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Invano scuote la maniglia d'una porta invisibile. SZymborska -Poesia consigliata da Carmen-. Ai confini del campo una bandiera sventola solitaria su un muretto. Su quello alzati nei riposi,a gara cari nomi lanciavano i fanciulli, ad uno ad uno come frecce. Vive in me l'immagine lieta;a un ricordo si sposa,a sera,dei miei giorni imberbi.

Odiosi di tanto eran superbi passavano la' sotto i calciatori Tutto vedevano e non quegli acerbi. Quante nuvole vi scorrono sopra impunemente, quanta sabbia del deserto passa da un paese all'altro, quanti ciottoli di montagna rotolano su terre altrui con provocanti saltelli! Devo menzionare qui a uno a uno gli uccelli che trasvolano, o che si posano sulla sbarra abbassata? E per giunta, quanto si agita! Oh, afferrare con un solo sguardo tutta questa confusione, su tutti i continenti!

Massimo Rossi

E chi se non la piovra, con le lunghe braccia sfrontate, viola i sacri limiti delle acque territoriali? E poi questo riprovevole diffondersi della nebbia! E il risuonare delle voci sulle servizievoli onde dell'aria: Wislawa Szymborska -Poesia consigliata da Carmen-. Roberto Baracchini -Poesia consigliata da Tinti- A Gongila O mia Gongila, ti prego metti la tunica bianchissima e vieni a me davanti: Di quello che ho nel cuore parlo poco ,mi frena la paura e voglio e soffro e mi fara' morire la cosa che la lingua non sa dire. Giovanni Raboni , da "Canzonette mortali" -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-.

Resta la calma superficie del Nulla. I lunghi secoli della veglia umana l'hanno colmata di antico pianto. E' il tuo specchio. Jorge Luis Borges -Poesia consigliata da Carmen-. Haiku Portare le mani alla bocca e ritrovare il sapore del sangue - ingenuo desiderio per l'amante, commosso ricordo per l'amico Giuseppe Panella -Poesia consigliata da Ant Leonima-.

Quindi soltanto le cose che giovano a queste due patrie sono beni per me. Marco Aurelio da "I ricordi" -Poesia consigliata da Tinti- Giuseppe Panella , dalla raccolta "Serial killer" - Morgana Edizioni. Antonia Pozzi , 16 ottobre -Poesia consigliata da Carmen-.

And spins the vane on the tower And chases the scurrying leaves, And the straw in the damp innyard. Seee-a girl passes Tripping gingerly over the pools, And under her lifted dress I catch the gleam of a comely, stockinged leg. The room stifles me, Reeking of stale tabacco- With the four black mealy horrible prints After Landseer's pictures. I will go out.

Here the free wind comes with a fuller circle, Sings, like an angry wasp, in the straining grass Sings and whistles; And the hurried flow of rain Scourges my face and passes. Behind me, clustered together, the rain-wet roofs of the town Shine, and the light vane shines as it veers In the long pale finger of sun that hurries across them to me.

The Fresh salt air is keen in my nostrils, And far down the shining sand Foam and thunder And take the shape of the bay in eager mirth The white-head hungry billows. The hearth shakes As the semicircle of waters Stoops and casts itself sunshine Show us the ordered horde that hurries to follow.

Merry companions, Your madness infects me. My whole soul rises and falls and leaps and tumbles with you! I shout aloud and incite you. O white-headed merry companions. The sight of you alone is better than drinking. My breast and my brain are moistened and cool; And still I yell in answer To your Hoarse inarticulate voices, O big, strong, bullying, boisterous waves, That are of all thing in nature the nearest thoughts to human, Because you are wicked and foolish, Mad and and destructive.

Guarda, una ragazza passa saltando cauta sopra le pozze e sotto il vestito sollevato colgo il riflesso di una gamba bella nella sua calza. Mi soffoca la stanza Che odora di tabacco stantio Con le quattro stampe nere melense Orribili alla maniera di Landseer. L'aria fresca di sale mi punge le narici E lontano, lungo la sabbia scintillante, i cavalloni infuriati dai capelli bianchi schiumano e rimbombano e assumono la forma della baita nel mirto ardente. La terra trema , il semicerchio delle acque s'incurva e si abbatte e fuori all'aperto, lontano, sprazzi di sole senza meta ci mostrano l'orda ordinata che incalza.

Allegre compagne, la vostra follia mi contagia. Tutta l'anima mia sorge e cade e salta e precipita con voi! Grido forte e vi incito, allegre compagne con la testa bianca. Restano indietro i giorni del passato, penosa riga di candele spente: Non le voglio vedere: E guardo avanti le candele accese. Non mi voglio voltare, ch'io non scorga, in un brivido, come s'allunga presto la tenebrosa riga, come crescono presto le mie candele spente.

Cold sands of time Winds that blow as cold as ice, Sounds that come in the night Shall hide what is left of me? I've been through times when no one cared. Words that were mine, I've seen clouds in empty skies When one kind word meant more to me. Shall last as a memory. Than all the love in Paradise. I believed in my dreams. Nothing could change my mind. Till I found what they mean Nothing can save me now.

Ho varcato le porte del tempo quando nessuno osava. Ho creduto ai miei sogni. Quando hai finito, prego, dimmelo, ch'io possa cominciare subito! Che, mentre indugi, io non mi ricordi di lui! Sei un levar di luna, se una stella apparisse al posto della luna. Sei la primavera, se un volto fiorisse invece di un ramo di melo. Grano novello Veloci gli anni-in fuga senza ritorno; solenne la calma di questa bella mattina. Mi voglio vestire con vesti primaverili e visitare i declivi del monte a Levante. Sul rivolo alpestre aleggia un fiocco di nebbia, aleggia un momento ancora, poi si disperde.

Giunge un vento che soffia da mezzogiorno e spazza i campi verdi di grano novello. Il vento della valle. L'animo mio si intona alla primavera, al finire dell'anno ho l'autunno in cuore. Canto del lago Lucide acque profonde; luna d'autunno. Sul lago del Sud si colgono bianche ninfee. I fiori a festuca flessibili pare che vogliano dirci qualcosa: Li Po -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-.

E basta con quei pugni serrati e la collera per i malvagi e gli sciocchi che s'incontrano; basta con l'abominevole rancore! Paul Verlaine -Poesia consigliata da Ida Guarracino-. In montagna un giorno d'estate. Agito lievemente un bianco ventaglio di piuma, seduto con la camicia aperta in un verde bosco. Mi tolgo il berretto e l'appendo ad una pietra sporgente; il vento dei pini piove aghi sulla mia testa nuda. Li Po Poeta cinese della dinastia dei T'Ang d. Tagore , da Gitanjali poeta indiano,premio Nobel per la letteratura -Poesia consigliata da Tinti- I limoni Ascoltami, i poeti laureati si muovono soltanto fra le piante dai nomi poco usati: Io, per me, amo le strade che riescono agli erbosi fossi dove in pozzanghere mezzo seccate agguantano i ragazzi qualche sparuta anguilla: Meglio se le gazzarre degli uccelli si spengono inghiottite dall' azzurro: La pioggia stanca la terra, di poi; s' affolta il tedio dell' inverno sulle case, la luce si fa avara - amara l' anima.

Prima o poi devi scegliere. O la luce o le tenebre. Drazan Gunjaca L'autore nato il 7 ottobre a Sinj Croazia dove termina la scuola d'obbligo. Nel frattempo si laurea in Giurisprudenza a Fiume, dopo di che abbandona l'ex armata Jugoslava. Per tal ragione si nasce senza esperienza, si muore senza assuefazione.

Cercheremo un'armonia, sorridenti, fra le braccia, anche se siamo diversi, come due gocce d'acqua. Quadro I miei pensieri somigliano stasera a quest'acqua bambina che corre a passettini d'argento dietro tutte le barche. L'ombra del promontorio, sul bianco mare, - bassa nota rauca in questa sviolinata crepuscolare - ha il colore abbrunato di un rimorso; ma, sulla punta, - nitido come uno squillo battagliero - l'ansito del faro palpita, anelando al largo.

Antonia Pozzi -Poesia consigliata da Wilma M. Ecco, i coglioni fanno le cose alla rovescia, e tu li vedi che sbagliano, tu lo sai come andrebbero fatte, provi a dirglielo, anche con le buone maniere, ma loro niente, tirano dritto, tu cerchi di dargli una mano, di metterli sulla buona strada, loro ti guardano con un'aria: Sono tanti, comandano loro". Raffaello Baldini -Poesia consigliata da Gerardo Pozzi-. Evgenij Evtusenko -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-.

Quando la guerra comincia forse i vostri fratelli si trasformeranno e i loro volti saranni irriconoscibili. Ma voi dovete rimanere eguali. Andranno in guerra ,non come ad un massacro ma ad un serio lavoro. Vi verseranno grappa nella gola come a tutti gli altri. Ma voi dovete rimanere lucidi. Bertolt Brecht -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Settembre Chiaro cielo di settembre illuminato e paziente sugli alberi frondosi sulle tegole rosse Fresca erba su cui volano le farfalle come i pensieri d'amore nei tuoi occhi Giorno che scorri senza nostalgie canoro giorno di settembre che ti specchi nel mio calmo cuore.

Attilio Bertolucci -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-. Saje scrivere, saje leggere parole 'e passione; saje ridere, saje chiagnere sentenno 'na canzona. Napule, tu e io Nuie simmo 'e figlie e Napule, Vommero e Margellina: C'era una donna che sola ho amata come nei sogni si ama se stessi e di bene e di male l'ho colmata come gli uomini fanno con se stessi. Essa era quella che avevo voluta per esser chiamato col mio nome: Si perde il fiore e poi si vede il frutto: Franco Fortini da "Una volta per sempre" -Poesia consigliata da Tinti- in risposta alla poesia di Gus.

E quando un dente si ammala quello falso sembra piu' bello. Forse anche per le parole per noi due non ci sono problemi quando le traduciamo con i dizionari. Eva Taylor -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Ora che non ti vedo, di buon mattino, mentre tutti dormono, prendo la penna, come un ladro prenderebbe la chiave di un forziere, e con la penna rubo la vita che non mi appartiene e scavo un camminamento per raggiungere te che, contro ogni legge, considero mia. Salvatore Fiume -Poesia consigliata da Ida Guarracino-.

Stevka Smitran -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Sarebbe come una rinascita alla luce delle albe alla soave innocenza dell'aurora. Nazim Hikmet -Poesia consigliata da Tinti- Signore, donami una buona digestione e anche qualcosa da digerire. Dammi la salute del corpo e il buon umore necessario per mantenerla. Dammi un'anima che non conosca la noia, i brontolamenti, i sospiri, i lamenti, e non permettere che mi crucci eccessivamente per quella cosa troppo ingombrante che si chiama IO.

Dammi, Signore, il senso del buonumore. Tommaso Moro -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-. Alda Merini -Poesia consigliata da Fausto Beretta- Basta che tu Basta che tu li sfiori nella nuca un momento con gli occhi quando brillano i bambini si voltano a guardarti avvertono la tua presenza. Mentre il freddo aumenta, cominciano a soffiare i venti notturni, scuotono le tende, facendo un rumore come il mare.

Oh fossero onde che potessero riportarti da me! Chien Wen-ti -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-. Spighe mature Le spighe a ciuffi si sono affollate sull'argine della strada maestra: Porto -Poesia consigliata da Tiziana Cocolo- Vivendo qui, tanto lontano, sono tuo. Poesia d'amore sanscrita -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico- Ci ha svegliati alle cinque la campana dell'alba dopo la nostra notte d'amore il suo eco rimane nella stanza, in noi,nell'aria fredda,nebbiosa.

Sento il tuo respiro regolare sento il tuo corpo senza segreti: Tardi Ti ho amato, Bellezza tanto antica e tanto nuova; tardi Ti ho amato! Tu eri con me, ma io non ero con Te. Mi tenevano lontano da Te le creature che, se non esistessero in Te, sarebbero inesistenti. La barriera - non te ne accorgi? Giorgio Caproni -Poesia consigliata da Gerardo Pozzi-. Giorgio Caproni -Poesia consigliata da Gerardo Pozzi- Sprecati sono questi giorni che non trascorro con te sprecate le mie notti vuote sprecate sono queste mattine e questo panorama da cartolina sprecate tutte le meraviglie della primavera.

Fran Landesman -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-. Non ci ho voluto credere. Posso almeno spubblicare che sono innamorato di una bella perfida. Renzo Paris -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Eugenio Montale -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico-. Portami tu la pianta che conduce dove sorgono bionde trasparenze e vapora la vita quale essenza; portami il girasole impazzito di luce.

Sai la malinconia che t'avviluppa.. Elio Pecora -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Telemessa Gridava come un ossesso. Anche se non si vede! Anche se non si sente! Feci per andare al cesso. Ci s'era rinchiuso LUI, a piangere. Una statua di gesso. L'amore rimase nel sogno. Raffica Passava la mia bambina.

Come era bella col suo vestitino di mussolina! E una farfalla presa. Garcia Lorca -Poesia consigliata da Tinti- Io non ho bisogno di denaro. Ho bisogno di sentimenti, di parole, di parole scelte sapientemente, di fiori detti pensieri, di rose dette presenze, di sogni che abitino gli alberi, di canzoni che facciano danzare le statue, di stelle che mormorino all'orecchio degli amanti La tagliola La parola. Sono una cosa sola. Se dovessi fallire, che miseria!

Eppure, poveri come me hanno puntato tutto in un'unica giocata! La morte solo morte! Oh salve di cannone in mare! Oh campane di tutti i campanili! Emily Dickinson -Poesia consigliata da Carmen- L'orologio Orologio, impassibile iddio, torvo tiranno che ci dice: Per tremilaseicento volte l'ora il Secondo -Ricordati! Come un insetto alato dice il Presente, rapido: Parlo ogni lingua con la mia gola di metallo. I minuti che passano sono un impasto giallo, stolto, non farlo perdere senza cavarne l'oro. Declina il giorno, guarda!

E' troppo tardi; vecchio poltrone, muori! Ritratto Esiste una bocca scolpita, un volto d'angiolo chiaro e ambiguo, un'opulenta creatura pallida dai denti di perla, dal passo spedito, esiste il suo sorriso, aereo, dubbio, lampante, come un indicibile evento di luce. Vincenzo Cardarelli -Poesia consigliata da Rosaria d'Amico- Un'altra notte In quest'oscuro colle mani gelate distinguo il mio viso Mi vedo abbandonato nell'infinito.

Giuseppe Ungaretti -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. E resteranno gli uccelli a cantare: Tre pioppi immensi e una stella. Il silenzio morso dalle rane somiglia a un velo dipinto con macchioline verdi Cosa mi ha indotto durante la notte ad abbandonare lo spazio del suo grande corpo assente se non l'ansia d'esser anch'io niente?

Bassani -Poesia consigliata da Tinti-. Quasi elegia Tanto vivere. Tornate alla vostra sorgente! Non abbandonate l'anima nel bicchiere della Morte. La Musa Quando la notte attendo il suo arrivo, la vita sembra sia appesa a un filo. Levato il velo, mi guarda attentamente. Anna Achmatova -Poesia consigliata da Carmen-.

Io ti chiesi Io ti chiesi perche' i tuoi occhi si soffermano nei miei come una casta stella del cielo in un oscuro flutto. Mi hai guardato a lungo come si saggia un bimbo con lo sguardo mi hai detto poi con gentilezza: Hermann Hesse -Poesia consigliata da Tinti Baldini-.

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