Francesco Favetta
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, it should never be harnessed!
In 2018 he was awarded by the Academy of Sicily, Academician of Sicily.
He has been published in several anthologies and in several magazines, among which, we mention some:international magazine The Poet;
Revista Azahar which edited the first Anthology of Poems in Spanish: Encantamiento y Palabras como Plumas;
Anthology The Silk Road Anthology: Nano Poems for Africa; “Galassia Poetica Atunis”;WorldSmith International Editorial; OPA The Poetry Journal; magazine Innombrable; Magazine Polis; rank of minister at the Order of the Titan and publication of a lyric in Octobermania;international literary magazine Kavya Kishor in Bangladesh;
international magazine of language, literature and culture “Petrushka Nastamba” Serbia; international magazine, Namaste India and certificate of appreciation;
Different Truths social journalism platform;Cisne Revista Digital;
Humanity Magazine St. Petersburg; 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 free its Life, and also Beauty will always be a truth that will never be buried:by the times and events of everyday human life!
Francesco Favetta. Sicily (Sciacca )Italy
Who cares
Who cares
about the life of a child
of a Palestinian soul
they are the children
of the poor of the earth
their flesh and blood
is not the same and as precious
as that of
another child
of another important country.
Who cares
about love and true feeling
when in front of everyone
innocent newborn souls
are killed
under the eyes of all of us
and no one has the courage
no one breathes and tells the truth
instead they turn away
pretending nothing has happened.
Who cares
about the death of Palestinian children
stripped of every breath
torn from life
cut off in their cradles
killed inside their native homes
who cares about this
who today all this
makes the stomach turn
to those of us.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
Children without a future
There is no peace
among men
fires blaze everywhere
mothers’ voices are tortured
and evil blossoms
in every corner of the world
reaping innocent victims.
Children have become
the targets to be eliminated
destinies without a future
whose heads must be
cut off
removing the friendly ground
under their feet.
And then again everywhere
empty words
and devoid of love
chase each other from mouth to mouth
in the din and noise
of weapons and bombs
sowing terror and death.
###.
Freedom in the blood
Life who are you
if the enchantment of feelings
like a storm
fire becomes in the heart
and then they fly away in stories
and they knot in memories
indelible moments of joy.
My life special smile
around you the song of love
laughs and dances with a grateful voice
and you are happy everywhere
with your different years
and the freedoms in the blood.
###.
Poetry !
Poetry is everywhere
you can find it
in the naive eyes
of a child
and you can also glimpse it
in the loving gaze
of a sleepless mother
in the answers of the heart
and in the small gestures of love.
And more poetry
you can find
and so much strength and courage
in the immense sky
in the infinite blue
in the boundless space
between the stars and the galaxies
and in the sidereal silence
of this vast universe.
###
I want to write a poem
Here I am with you
tonight in silence
I want to write a poem
a different thought
from the verses of love and courage.
They say that the wind of the East in the squares is never extinguished
and also the voice of songs
in that song that smells of peace
and dressed in few words.
And then again everywhere
from the streets of all the cities
the voices of men fly
they rise in a single cry
and march in the dark night.
Between the Light and the darkness
the face of man embodies
the New Words in the heart
and husband of Faith
disperses every evil in the world.
###.
My land
My land
is the voice of hope
the face of the tired man
the hands that work
the clothes dirty with sweat
but also the industrious fruit.
My land
strong pains and strange noises
the respect for life
the tears on the shoulders
and it is still the truth
buried in history.
My land
vibrates silently
breathes every day
wind and storm
stripped and naked in the flesh
lives in everyone’s heart.
###.
Love can always!
May true love
pure and simple love
overwhelm everyone
cross every heart
overcome the boundaries of the earth
and drown in the streets of the world.
May this love
in the silence of the night
devour the different words
and then fall in love again
in the brief span of a kiss
of the beauty of life.
May love
this love so beautiful
strong and imposing
become the rebellious wind
and drag all humanity
in the celebrations of Inner Peace. ###.
Beautiful Soul
Tear the flesh
tear the silence
of the silent destiny
disperse the tears
pearls of light
of waters
given birth and birth
like drops
of memory
migrated from the heart
to the sky.
Move the skin
sink the roots
in the body marked
by time flown
in the skies
of the distant infinite
drink from the
ancient chalice
of the wise ancestors
and from the deep sea
of the heart given
to the wind already extinguished
by rivers of words
and dancing sirens
to the rhythm of the song
of the empty lament.
Sigh, beautiful soul
and unsheathe
the precious word
the main road
for the unborn days
from the cold call
of tired
and useless words
thrown into the abyss
the bottom
of the well emptied
by the enchanted hours
of prose and speeches
welcomed by the
dormant vulgar.
Cry, beautiful soul
to the days to come
the truth
of your soul
shaken
and animated by the
wise fire
of the
never extinguished
strength
of your ancestors
to us fathers
raise the banner
of sacred fury
the only way
of inner
awakening!
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
