Francesco Favetta-Who will remain man ?

The Poet Francesco Favetta was born in the land of 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 Motion, not should never be harnessed!

In 2018 he was awarded the Academician of Sicily by the Accademia di Sicilia.He has been published in various anthologies and magazines, among which we mention a few: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; “Poetic Galaxy Atunis”;

WorldSmith International Editorial; OPA The Poetry Journal; Innombrable magazine; Polis Magazine; rank of minister in 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, “Sciacca Terme”.Finally, the Poet Francesco Favetta is convinced that Poetry will be the weapon with which humanity will set its life free, and furthermore that Beauty will always be a truth, which will never be buried:from the times and events of daily human life!           

 Francesco Favetta (Sciacca )Sicily

Who will remain man ?

Because you man

kill your brothers

raise your hand to throw

to unleash your hatred

against your own flesh

your human roots.

What is your value

nowadays man

when your every breath

poisons instantly

the song of peace

and the beauty of hearts.

Who will remain man

after your poison exhaled

on innocent human lives

and where will love be

hope removed from heaven.

©Copyright Francesco Favetta

  To Palestinian children !

Countless times

these silent voices

they were drowned

inside the caves of the world

and also late on the lips

they were never released

in the alleys of time.

Always mutilate in hearts

the innocent voices of children

I’m still here in the dark

and they scream the pain in the words

heavy as hammers

their fate remains written

in death which is the due end.

©Copyright Francesco Favetta                                                                                             The voice of time 

The voice of time

in his eternal songs


tell the story

hollows out his face

wise nourishes the roots

and teaches how to live

in the dances of life.

Odd or even

they don’t count inside the veins

it will be a storm

or I sing in my heart

in this sea of mine

they always drown


love and freedom.

©Copyright Francesco Favetta                                                                 

Innocents without out a land

Where is Peace

in the long flowing river

bringing in the waters

in the womb wet from war

trails of blood and mourning.

I am still

the desperate roots

of innocents without a land

and the cruelties within the walls

to pay for oblivion and silence.

In this desert

huge in the heart

their mouths remain silent

of those men killed

from the brother close behind.

©Copyright Francesco Favetta 

   I’m far from the world!

I get lost

on full moon nights

and I abandon myself

ruining on me

in inner silence

finding peace again

that thin veil that covers

existence and the life of days.

I am far from the world

in this sea


I breathe acrid and salty breath

and it’s nice to drown in it

and navigate it without routes

drifting over time

beyond the visible horizon.

©Copyright Francesco Favetta.                                                                                   

      The lo silence of life !

The armed hand

from anger

it is the death of humanity

it is the wind that sweeps

human lives

from the roots of the world.

Not even chains

they stop the violence

so fierce on the skin

and the scent of death

on the helpless bodies of children.

And then it is in the silences

the collapse of reality

on darkened faiths

from black evil

and of every violated truth

raped by iron.

The man

he became the executioner

the murderer of religions

the accomplice of the end

of earthly existence

of a tortured people.

Tomorrow will be

the day of death

today instead it arose

the silence on the faces

but yesterday it was celebrated

the day of mourning.

The day after tomorrow he will be born

the day of destiny

born from the rite of power

on the lives of innocent souls

soaked in red blood

slaughtered by the hands of their brothers.

©Copyright Francesco Favetta