Claudia Piccinno |
Dr. Claudia Piccinno
(Italy)
Claudia Piccinno is a teacher, poet and translator,
she lives and teaches in the north of Italy.
Operating in more than 100 anthologies, she’s member of the jury in many
national and international literary prizes. She has been the Continental
Director for Europe in the World Festival Poetry from April 2019 to september
2021, she represents Istanbul culture in Italy as Ambassador of Ist Sanat Art
Association. She has published 41 poetry books, among her own poetry collections
and other poets' translations into Italian language.
She was conferred with the most prestigious award
“Stele of Rosetta” in Istanbul in 2016, the Literary Awards Naji Naaman Prize
2018, “World icon for peace” for Wip in Ondo city, Nigeria, in April 2017;
Global Icon Award 2020 for Writers Capital International Foundation, The light
of Galata, Turkey 2021, Sahitto International Jury Award, Bangladesh 2021,Aco
Karamanov festival in Radovish,Macedonia,2021.
She gained almost 250 prizes in Italy for poetry and
cultural merits. Her poem "In Blue" is played on a majolica stele
posted on the seafront in Santa Caterina di Nardo (Le). She is European editor
for the international literary magazine Papirus in Turkey and for Atunis
Magazine international.
She is responsible
for poetry in the Italian magazine called Gazzetta of Istanbul, printed in
Turkey by the Italian community. She writes for e-magazine and literature
newspapers such as Menab├▓, Verbumpress, Il Porticciolo.
Her website is https://claudiapiccinno.weebly.com
1-
In the alphanumeric code
You didn’t know you were
in the alphanumeric code
of my every access.
Dates, anniversaries, memories
difficult to decipher.
How anonymous is your face
behind a screen.
Quiet is the glitter
of the look.
Extinguished is my smile
of circumstance.
I receive every day
love letters
poems that swell
the book of flatterers.
I read them without surprise,
I catalog them in a protocol
which looks like a reptile house.
I prepare myself for silence.
My mind is looking for coolness
of an Augustan night and
everything else is noise.
2-
The art of subtracting
I’m learning the art of substracting
For a long time I have put in place forgetfulness,
I slavishly ignore names and surnames,
I mix the dates, I take out square roots
that decrease pain.
I wonder how many brackets I will have to solve
before finding the specific gravity of that boulder
that obstructs lightness to my heart.
I rely on automatisms and inertia
every time I lose my words,
I try to prove a statement
without memorized formulas,
I am reminded of the theory of variables
and I persist in looking for the x
lightening the constants
that will never equal the give and take.
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