Gay Men, Charlotte, N.c.

First prize in the Ivan Crico "Premio Giuseppe disease of the Valley" by a commentator on poetry



Delivery of the first prize for poetry of linguistic minorities and local dialects. Barcis, July 12, 2010. Pictured from left, Maurice Salvador President of the Jury, the Venetian poet Fabio Franzini, the winner of the section in language italiaana Anna Elisa De Gregorio, Ivan and Crico Low Pierluigi Cappello.


I linïamenti de la levada

De 'na luʃe pìzula ta'l
cor de la note you write. You write to you
forest como mi, ta is
deʃmentegà tera de Fogo de stele and that 'to have the nvultìza
de Ale concerns ta'l dark caʃéi
alton par ones that bank de mar

luntani. Stii ʃnegradi verbs
ta'l Albizia sfoi of the sfriʃa the óʃe
sfogonande ànƺui of the vegia
that tends 'to the viaƺo longo

' ncòntraghe de Nantra - Formenti
de ta Cunfin that of the màʃena tenp
'l se muda in farina e pan cunpèna
fést - de ziel sugo ta'l fundi del mumént
che ta l'unbrìa la va in zerca del troƺo

par tornar fóia ta'l vént de avrìl. Scolto
'l diman ta le batude doventar sangue
e man par catar ta'l zito la vena de óro
dei insonii mai pirdudi, óro de ardor

de àqua ta'l colfo vèrt dei oci tovi.
Xe drìo sonar; boti lónghi e remandi
de drento 'ntant che zerco de maƺinàr
comòdo saràsto, 'ntant che ƺà in ti
lumo, neve sacreta de unidùn che 'l va
che 'l ven, i linïamenti de la levada.

THE OUTLINE OF DAWN


From a little light in the heart / of the night I write, I write / to you stranger like me in this land of fire / forgotten stars that crown / now your wings on the sleep of darkness, high fires / if coming from distant seas. Lame obscure the word / / affect the white page entries / burning of angels, the sleep / that accompanies your long trip and back to us - wheat / exodus of the millstone of time / you warm flour and bread - / sap of the air between the fibers of moments / search the path in the darkness / / leaf in the wind to return in April. Listening / beats in your future be blood / and hands to find silence in the vein of gold / dream ever lost gold of the night / phosphorescence of the Gulf of your eyes open. / Ring the bells, chimes and echoes long / in, as I try to imagine / how are you, while already in you / I see snow secret of every man who goes or who comes, the features of dawn.