Tuesday, February 1, 2022





Behind The Sunset


Look, the shadow falls again

To the East -over there, on the other side

of sunset. Now it’s folding in gloom

the weight of the stars.


Stay with me tonight

we could star-gaze the bombs

shine and explode on the river.

Stay. One night only.

Confuse my eyes and the fortune with kisses.


I’d want eyes of Lynx, I’d want

indolent stone. But I have got brooding hen wings

and dawning shadows; in the womb

handfuls of crumpled stars.

Stay. Let’s set the night on fire

(with a glow of doubt or a glimmer of idea).


Sorry, with the years and the hormones I forget

everything and I talk too much.

Footnotes of heaven, we are in the verb

in the imperfect time.

Stay with me, let's brighten up the night.



Still In The Mirror


Don't ask about me; don't ask me.

I am. Here. Five hundred thousand minutes

and millions of years later, in my hands

a cup of coffee. On the window frame drifts 

the rain, it slips

on the train tracks on the gray of the asphalt

in the depth of manholes. 


It was raining that day at the museum. Rain

in the bar, in the glasses, it rained

on the gesture of the hand – yours, so big –

mirror of mine. Still, it was raining

at night in the room of suspended

questions. And you hardly held back

the blue, fracture of the ego. 


We laugh, perhaps, in another

universe, clinging by chance

again to a kiss, on the eyes

in the blood. And you move me



Now. Here. At the crossing of the winds.

I become word. Of stone

and sand. For the last time.

At the end of the road a new illusion.



-- Où Tu Veux Si Tu Veux Quand Tu Veux -

(When You Want, If You Want, When You Want)


Memories follow each other tonight and they blend.

In the black and white photo you are laughing.

At your back, the sea.

And it’s you. Without time.


We had clouds in our eyes

and a shard of sun.

(in our hair the illusion made of glass that time was ours)

we had the night and the sea and a grief

dressed in blue, and the carmine red of laughs, and caps

and a rose in a vase

-        Je te promets le ciel-  you sang to my rebel feet


I am still body, sneeze, I am hunger and thirst

I am still fountain and urgent longing for a divine.

I open wide the balcony to the night and you are Light

(is it really necessary a body to love?)


There is a branch blossoming in the center of my hand

at the crossing of the line of fortune.

-        Où tu veux si tu veux quand tu veux –




LUCILLA TRAPAZZO (Switzerland/Italy) is an award-winning, internationally recognized poet, translator, book editor, artist and performer.  Poetry editor of MockUp Magazine, Italy, editorial Board member of INNSAEI Journal, India, and editorial advisor of Zheng Xin International Award and Journal, China, juror of poetry competitions, moderator and co-organizer of international festivals and art exhibitions, her works have been translated into 14 languages, published in international anthologies and literary magazines. Guest of International Festivals (including Struga Poetry Evenings 2021) her poems have been awarded numerous prizes (among which: first prize Civil and Philosophical Poems, XI Checkhov’s Autumn International Festival, Crimea 2021, Creativity Award Naji Naaman, Lebanon 2021, Golden Feather of Russia at the 2021 Золотое Перо Руси, Russia “for the excellent synthesis of different artistic styles and languages, Best Book of the Year at the 4th Bo’ao International Poetry Festival for Ruscellante, People Republic of China). BOOKS  “Ossidiana”,  poetry book, September 2018, Volturnia Edizioni, Isernia, Italy. “Dei Piccoli Mondi”, poetry book, April 2019, Il Leggio Edizioni, Chioggia, Venezia. “Trentagiorni”, Haiku Lucilla Trapazzo, photographs Alfio Sacco, September 2019, Il Sextante, Roma.  “Ruscellante”, poetry, April 2019, Volturnia Edizioni, Cerro al Volturno, IS, Italy



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