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Next poetry post!


Ettore Serra
is the world humanity
one’s own life
flowering from the word
the limpid wonder
of a delirious fermet

When I find
in this my silence
a word
hewn out is in my life
like an abyss

I see this poem as Ungaretti talking about his creative process and his own feelings about producing poetry… kind of like an illustrator drawing pictures about producing illustrations! So I used flowers as a visual metaphor for art, showing his work starting off in his mind and woven out of his mouth to create poems on paper. I showed this to my mum and her main response was something along the lines of “but why does he have flowers on his head? People don’t normally have flowers growing on their head”. Hmm…