SECOND EDITION 2003
results
entries received: 408 (only one computer for each participant).
Composition of the Jury: Joseph Vetromile, president and organizer of the competition; Ciro Carfora, poet Pasquale Lubrano Lavadera, writer and painter Bruno Di Pietro, a lawyer.
Sec. A - Free theme
1st prize: Salvatore Cangiani. 2nd prize: Minos Gori. 3rd prize: Loriana Capecchi.
of mentions about the Poets: Selim Tietto, Nino Falato, Antonietta Tafuri, Fabrizio Parrini, Alfredo Di Marco, Carlo Del Preite, Adolfo Silveto, Luiso Domenico, Ivano Mugnaini, Daniela Raimondi.
Recommended: Benito Galilee, Paul Sangiovanni, Marco Mazzucco, John Rescigno, Bruno Bianco, Salvatore Masucci, Maria Francesca immediately, Anna Granato, Laura Appignanesi, Easter Chirico, Gennaro Grieco, First Leone, Giulio Demarchi, Maria Pia De Martino, Giuliana Vanacore , Felice Osio, Catherine Bigazzi.
Sec. B - colors, scents and flavors of Somma-Vesuvius
1st prize: John Case. 2nd prize: Vitantonio Boccia. 3rd prize: Carmine Capasso.
Mentions of merit: Pompilia Pagano, Vince Russo, Carmela Basile, Gerardo Altobelli, Gianni Ianuale.
Recommended: John D'Amiano, Simona Torluccio, Salvatore Calabrese, Agostino Abate, Raffaele Galiero, Federica Bruno, Luigi Pump, Alfredo Mariniello.
Special Jury Prize to poet Andrea De Cristofaro of St. Anastasia.
Special Jury Prize at students of middle school "Alighieri-Pacinotti" Marigliano (Na).
Awards Ceremony: May 8, 2003, Public Library of St. Anastasia.
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The winning poems
Give me time
Datemi il tempo
d’una notte insonne
e quel sapore di polvere e pianto
che rese amaro il latte delle madri
accucciate con noi dentro gli anfratti
della città crollata.
Il tempo d’un rosario
a una Madonna nera, da scandire
sui volti ormai sbiaditi dei soldati
che appendevamo all’orlo del suo manto
nel riverbero rosso d’un lumino.
Il tempo di chinarmi tra i filari
di pietre bianche
su quei gelidi gigli di dolore
per un’altra carezza ad ogni croce.
E poi parlate pure
delle guerre future, quando il debito
del sangue avrò pagato anche per voi.
E se tempo
non that there is enough to give me a prelude
of eternity, until the last wind
not have eradicated the bramble of memories that perfume
sick child. Until the last
boy slain
will not wipe out the injustice of history
since my last kiss.
But I need to cross the borders of all time
to ask for forgiveness. For thousands of years to cry
to be the voice of Abel
that its peace is our peace.
Salvatore Cangiani, Sorrento
1st prize section. A
Motivation of the Jury:
As always, the poet is careful sentinel the fundamental values \u200b\u200bof life. And in this beautiful, heartfelt poem entitled strongly didactic and expressive, the author repeats with vehemence, but with a delicacy of image, that the chief good of man is peace.
"Give me time," in this world who do not have time, is a poem of conviction against any insult, any war, which always leaves traces of blood and pain in the hearts of men.
The poem develops into a crescendo of powerful images and significant, reaffirming to almost every line of prayer, and hope, because over the millennia to come, our innocence shouted with the voice of Abel, is finally redeemed. Salvatore
Cangiani shows once again in this poem and its staff well-established value in the contemporary literary scene.
----------------------------------- Steps of Hope
Albe red blood open days,
in the Middle East, and weeps, between spasms of
wind
the prime of life.
The hell of war cries
profound shiver under
once broken,
altars bare. Death awaits
injuries on the roads
the tracks of the wagons, armed with
arrogance and violence, intended to make rubble
shadows of houses.
Hate has turned off the light
the comet, and freezes
nella coltre di lutti dilaganti.
Geme la terra, la pietà dolora,
santa è solo la morte:
sul Calvario,
troppe sono le Croci
per distinguervi il Figlio, diventato
uno dei tanti
caduti senza volto e senza nome.
Cavalca rabbia
il pianto delle madri,
e, disperato, inghiotte ciò che resta
dei dispersi frammenti dell’amore.
Bambini già maturi,
immemori di sogni
e d’innocenza, spiano attenti
dai cumuli di pietre insanguinate.
Anche la morte non fa più paura
e la pace diventa solo un’eco,
remota, di coscienza.
Sarà nostra, d’amore, se vorremo,
la voce
calling us to bring hope
steps between remaining silent houses
and pushing life to become day.
Minos Gori, Pistoia
2nd prize section. A
Motivation of the Jury: In
a poet, hope is always vivid, always feasible. Even in this poem, Minos excellent Gori, Pistoia poet who goes by now an ever more effective in the difficult world poetic expressiveness, hope has stealthily and silently among the houses destroyed by hatred, and pushes life to be day. " Excellent
and poetically highlighted the figures in this poem that tells the ugliness and Middle Eastern blood feuds, the infinite crisis between Palestinians and Jews that only brings death, in a land where Christ also identifies herself in "one of the many." Minos
Gori has a captivating poem, dragging, and is deeply felt and say, as only a poet can do.
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The time of light footsteps
If the sky above the groove
overflowed into shoes of wind behind us kids
a flight of birds or snow
acacia deals in streets of silence. Clay
were
lizard
coot on the mirror of the sun stream
pecking crushed into flakes.
Yes, we knew that
low noise
wheat was being born.
not seen the grass lizard eye glass.
flew skinny legs in jumping
of mass and more than a sign of a bell
drawn on the rock with stones stolen from the river
colored
many.
We lived life and she does not know anything other than a blue wonder
of hills and endless campaign
surrendered to clouds and the smell of lavender.
be reminded now of that time who once had
light steps and within the shaft to crack
pomegranates of stars
a night of slings and boys sitting on the edge
to hear the thud of the stone dropped to the bottom.
Clashed with the jug in the wave
walls concealing the watermelon.
dance ... dance ...
Loriana Capecchi, Quarrata (Pistoia)
3rd prize section. A
Motivation of the Jury:
Loriana Capecchi is a poet of memory, the true values \u200b\u200bby jealously preserve in the heart. And in this poem lives for ever more the memory "of light footsteps" of a life spent nell'allegrezza girl in the genuineness and unrepeatable. The poem is imbued with images of rural and highly evocative, expertly deployed to enrich the contents. Melodies, sounds and smells pervade the lyrics, also imbued with a secret vein of musicality that transpires mostly in the end, when it seems to feel right next to us that thud of stone in the well, that rattle the pitcher fell down, dancing, dancing ...
--------------- -----------------------
smells and tastes of Vesuvius
You know him singing, flute
slipping on the evening ' steep
good smell of the earth
Vesuvius, the wind rises
among the orange and the pain of us assembled
homes, bread in the dawn,
glimpses of countries and fires.
know him the martyrdom of the rose plucked up the roots of apricot flowers
blacks and eyes of your girls
behind the eyes of lovers, and walls, and filled with thorns
of gardens, and the cold sky
cut in November of lapilli.
flower children to sunny walls,
candy peaches and grapes on the lips of gold
to get rolling on the stones of Train
dawn versa
drops on their faces, wets the horizon,
sparkle to the breaking of the sea.
John Case, Market St. Severino (SA)
1st prize section. B
Motivation of the Jury:
E 'sign of great significance in poetic verse to argue - and this expression is permitted not really suited to poetry - rebuilding on the sheet sections and characteristics of the object that is an inspiration. But here comes the poem, however spontaneous, despite forcing the issue. He was born very spontaneous, and even adds value, as they say in technical terms. So much so, that the description of the Vesuvian landscape is enriched and enhanced, contributing to enliven, enhance the characteristics of the environment so poetically described. Certain strokes, some paintings, taking identity and vividness, in full respect of a rhythm and a great poetic wording, just John Case, author of uncommon literary talent and hard work.
------------------------------
the slopes del Somma-Vesuvio
Profumo di resina
piove dai pini in fili d’argento,
su verdi tappeti di muschio,
sull’odore fresco dell’erba,
su umide foglie;
si sperde col canto del cuculo
per crinali sabbiosi
e tra gialle ginestre risale
agli spenti sussurri
del Monte alla gola strozzata.
Alle pendici feconde
polpe mature su rami frondosi,
vive maree di tralci fluttuanti
ai pioppi legati,
fresche verdure dell’orto
in file pazienti.
Nell’aria intenerita
trionfa d’aromi un tripudio
per gli archi dei borghi,
nelle strette vie di lava vestite
e
knocking at houses gathered around the stone crosses in churches, homes
marked
violent trembling soul in the bowels never tamed,
white houses and red-footed
fire
grown in many,
stubborn,
like my country.
Vitantonio Boccia, Terzigno (NA)
2nd prize section. B
Motivation of the Jury:
takes to the descriptions makes it very special and charming landscape already rich "colors and flavors, as suggested by the theme of this poem Vitantonio Boccia, who won the second prize for section of the Somma-Vesuvius.
In a crescendo of bucolic images supportate da un verseggiare breve ma incisivo, ricco di spunti ed efficace nella resa poetica, l’Autore termina la sua lirica nel modo più confacente ed affettuoso possibile: “case bianche e rosse, dai piedi di fuoco (stando ad indicare che hanno fondamenta nelle viscere magmatiche della montagna), cresciute in tante, ostinate, come il paese mio…”
--------------------------------
A ‘e piede d’ ‘a Muntagna
Quanno voglio nu poco ‘e culore
pe me tégnere ‘e juorne d’ammore,
lasso tutto, ‘a fatica, ‘a cumpagna
e me cerco nu posto sulagno.
Sta a duje passe ma 'Or keep' int '' o core
Stenn 'hand and already feel' or heat
'or arrefrisco' and nu woods 'ncantato
of Arber and bowed' and priest burnt.
Saglio at Somma. I'm 'under' a Muntagna,
Auciello and feel 'or perfume' and country, but
cchiù strong n'addore 'broom and
and pe is ll'uocchie Pasca na, na party.
Veco homes, paise, ca se castiello
look. So '' Who have seen
and sentries 'to Muntagna' and smokes,
sciumme 'and saw fire' and Cula.
Na padula 'Mpruviso appears to me, nu cu
dog, NA and Votta' or Pagliaro
pascennose and 'light' s 'or sun
Cerasella know about ...' pummarole.
Po ', cchiù Spiert, nu think' and spin
grape yellow gold ca me think:
Cataranesca, Viata chi 'or tten,
melts' o sango and I Pizzech' and vvéne.
Torno cuntento arete, sweating,
stong Aller, appaciato me feel.
Na bell if this p '' to go ... I
'me a sign and I'm' MPAC cu God
Carmine Capasso, Naples
3rd prize section. B
Justification Jury:
Nothing better than a vernacular evocative and colorful, full of colors and flavors - it must be said - to express the strong sweetness, but we are sorry for the oxymoron is appropriate, this poem accents madrigal. Carmine Capasso, good Neapolitan poet, knows it very well use the classical testing himself in the difficult exposure in Neapolitan language. The squares are described in the poem are fresh and full of life, the lines have a particular rhythm, thanks to clever use of rhyme.
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