"Urban Poets" is a collection of poems edited by Andrea Cirillo and Andrea Tebaldi with photos by Denada Alimadhi. Produced by Poetic Meetings in collaboration with the Scanderbeg Association, it was presented last night as part of the initiatives for the 2010 Albanian Culture Week in Parma.
"We opened the shutter and poured ourselves into the street", they say sitting in a circle of life to read their poems in a poetic way. I listen in the silence of my words never written ..."In the silence of the words I never wrote, I lean and think how much wind is blowing ... the leaves of this autumn fall on white sheets of reading, I paint my pen on these rhymes, which bring near and distant thoughts of lands, of people who love them! I am, we are emigrants ... "This book reflects my soul, it reflects the souls of all of us, which fly between worlds that meet. It is a wonderful muse that unites us in a fragile, strong, sublime poetry. While I read: "The footsteps of my father and my father's father, along the inviolate route of history ...", close your eyes and feel how the thought sounds together with my blood that flows without boundaries. "Because love everyone lives it as it wants that wins, that devours, that takes, that whispers ...", with the strength of those in journeys of that train that is called life stops - I add - welcomes and listens to people with the "cardboard suitcase" and their stories. Although poetry recalls sentimental love, the universal need to love springs from the lyric, through the play of metaphors. Fathers who have left us the legacy of being proud. Hands of people who have created in us that profile to be grateful. "I know your hands ... a thrill runs through them ... which is only mine", our existence would be a circle without spaces, if there were not the feelings of close ties with its own roots. Like that most hidden part, because it is deeper, where love is hidden. We often hear voices that get lost in nothingness, this frantic life society is too selfish, we travel in the same track and we do not realize that we have fears and needs as we have energy and the possibility of grasping each other to walk more serene."The darkness of those who know and do not know how to get out of it ... of those who renounce black because they do not exist in nature". Simple observation of paintings - Van Gogh as a simple and profoundly artist who painted the view of nature on sunflower fields from open windows? Thought that goes to view the world. Emotional desire to see it more colorful as a rainbow of solidarity "Only that one learns only with time to no longer be alone, light, after light ...", it reminds me of our days in the early days of emigrants. You have in front of you the glittering and lively world, you stop with a lost step in a jungle that does not belong to you, you would just need a bench in some park to meditate on your ideas and then a hug, light after light enter the livable perspective of the society that you welcomes and at the same time rejects you. Enter on tiptoe because you don't want to disturb the people who see you above your glasses, thoughtful and worried, maybe they're right ... maybe! Even in a simple rented house ... "Dark surprises me ... I turn on the light. I recognize what is mine and what is not mine ... "always with time the darkness will not surprise you anymore! Do not trust your bastard friend" you are small between my fingers, like destiny ... ": clouds of smoldering student outlets a long night, before an exam, or in a short break of a work shift, you feel massacred but at the same time feel the blood rushing through your veins because you're alive! Walking life, slow snail destined for long journeys. And the distances of nostalgia recall memories: "Friendship with detachment does not fade but grows linked to a distant past".
Every time we return to our homeland, as I do, as you do, we retrace the paths of childhood and youth. There, the trees have aged, but they still have some signs that tell of a distant past. Of our distant past. I go up and down every time because it's nostalgia for places where "I'm not the only one traveling ...", because we're still traveling.
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