Euridice

Sebastiano Diciassette was born in Bari (Italy) and is actually living in Berlin.
His poems have been featured in various anthologies and magazines, such as “Ellin Selae”, “Future Shock”, “Latte+”, “Uoz’Ap?”, “PRIVATE”, “Malpelo” and “Articoli Liberi”.
He is the author of four poetry books: “Il cielo era sereno come da sempre” (Penna d’Autore);
“L’erba prima di calpestarla” (Milena Libri, 2021); “La verità del vetro” (G.C.L, Edizioni, 2022);
“Acquasantiera” (Transeuropa, 2024).
His literary work “No Poetry, No Cry” has been used in the XXIII Berlin Poetry Festival 2022 as part of a collective chain poem.

Speaking of poetry, especially in our day, means speaking in terms of a revolutionary act.
Poetry is a weapon.
A weapon against fast thinking.
Against fast-food thinking.
Against propaganda
and slogans.
Poetry forces you to reflect.
It forces you to slow.
To stop.
To re-think.
To stop and rethink again.
For most people, in these times, it is not easy; it’s very hard indeed. It hurts, it can be painful.
But best poetry should never be harmless.

About the four poems published here: more than in the different themes of the lyrics, it is in the
overall atmosphere that their unifying feature must be found.
The classic topoi of Eros and Thanatos are seen as the extreme swings of an existential pendulum
and are developed through an accumulation of synesthetic images aimed at creating a feverish
dreamlike quality, along with particular attention to the musicality of the verses, each in the
uniqueness of the three chosen languages.

Like an italian critic wrote (Rossella Pretto): “Poetry is an individual wound that becomes collective music. Most of all, it is an extreme act of freedom to defeat the solitude of being humans.”

Sebastiano Dicassette

Il Deserto

Giocattoli rotti su una strada
e un bimbo che osserva
la tristezza
in un fiore sbocciato.
Poesie senza senso
o sogni senza suono?
Ferma il mondo
e dimmi cosa significa.

Die Einöde

Auf einer Straße liegt kaputtes Spielzeug
und ein Kind betrachtet
die Traurigkeit
einer aufgebrochenen Blume.
Poesie ohne Sinn
oder Träume ohne Klang?
Halt die Welt an
und sag mir, was das bedeutet.

The Desert

Broken toys on a street
and one child observing
the sadness
in a blossomed flower.
Senseless poems
or soundless dreams?
Stop the world
and tell me what it means.

*

Consolazione

Ho dimenticato la frase
che volevo dirti,
ma non importa,
intanto parliamo con gli occhi
e gli occhi non dimenticano.

Trost

Ich habe den Satz vergessen,
den ich dir sagen wollte,
aber das ist nicht mehr wichtig,
unterdessen sprechen wir mit den Augen
und die Augen vergessen nicht.

Consolation

I forgot the sentence
I wanted to tell you,
but it doesn’t matter,
meanwhile we speak with our eyes
and the eyes never forget.

*

Maturità

Le stelle hanno smesso di brillare quando
ho cominciato a crescere
poi l’autunno è caduto nei miei occhi
precipitando il mondo
nel suo veleno di cadavere.

Reife

Die Sterne hörten auf zu leuchten als
ich zu wachsen begann
danach fiel der Herbst mir in die Augen
herabstürzend die Welt
in ihres Leichnams Gift.

Maturity

The stars just stopped shining
when I started growing
then the autumn fell into my eyes
collapsing the world
in its poisonous corpse.

*

Angolazione differente

C’è qualcosa che ti voglio dire,
amore,
non ti voglio più con me.
È questa la differenza:
io cerco di capire
invece di mentire.

Unterschiedliche Blickwinkel

Es gibt etwas, dass ich dir sagen möchte,
Liebe,
ich möchte dich nicht mehr bei mir haben.
Der Unterschied besteht darin:
ich versuche zu verstehen
anstatt zu lügen.

Different angle

There is something I’d like to tell you,
love,
I don’t want you anymore with me.
This is the difference:
to understand I try
instead of to lie.