Recensione di Silvana Stremiz
pubblicato sul numero di “il salotto degli autori”.
I read “Elikona” by Roberto Colonnelli
Some claim that everything has already been said and everything has already been thought and written and that the great poets are all dead, as are the great artists. However, this is not true. Poets continue to exist, and this can be confirmed through reading a book that is full of emotion, which perhaps might never become a textbook, but will certainly leave an indelible mark over time. I am referring to a book by the poet, Roberto Colonnelli. A poet because when words touch the heart and seem invented to move you, this is definitely poetry.
Not surprisingly the book is entitled, Elikona, which is a symbol of poetic inspiration made famous by Greek mythology. The theme of this poetic anthology is love. Love in all its forms, devoted and passionate love for his wife: Lauretta, or the love for life, for its sense of rightfulness, for one’s children.
Robert’s poetry is a continuous melody that gets under your skin, until it envelops the soul in a single canto.
I do not remember how / but, one day, poetry found me at the door. I do not remember if it was I seeking it or it seeking me/ or if it was trying to save me / – From Poesia (Poem) –
My poem / is out in the street / among people /.
My poem is just a drop / that hits the wall
Of the conscience of Man / – From the poem: La mia poesia (My poem) –
The worst of sins / a man can commit /
is being frugal in love / -From: Il peggiore dei peccati (The worst of sins)
To his beloved son he dedicated
We have the same eyes / The same energy /
Yet, you have your magic / – From: Figlio non sei me (Son, you are not me)
However, the most beautiful verses he dedicated to his wife, Lauretta:
You are woman / you are mother / you are life, and I love you.
Simple words, yet, so be authentic in their being life, love, dreams, and hopes. In reading Roberto’s book, I found myself cradled in time, with unexpected chills. I walked among the clouds, stumbling in a magical reality, made up also of thorns, but mostly of love.
Only a sensitive soul is able to transform a common feeling into something unique and sublime, until capable of making it penetrate deeply and perceive it within, while it leans against the heart.
They say that the great poets have all passed away, but Elikona proves them wrong.