S Poem by Antonella Anedda

To those who asked him the difference between being sad and
being heart-broken, Nachman answered that being heart-broken
was not an obstacle to joy.
(Nachman of Breslaw)


Is the letter of silence and serpents, of sage serenity, of the soft sounds
with which one asks people to be silent. The lips pout,
the tongue remains a prisoner of the ring of teeth.

Nocturnal silence. When you get up in the summer darkness
and trees are left without wind beyond the wide open door.
When the rooms breath softly and the sea joins the geraniums.
Red and cobalt and more red
in the lighthouses of the port
in the ferry-boats that glitter and wait.

Morning silence. A quality of the footsteps on the paving
of the voices. It is the sound of the shutters
that rise over the intact shops: a sign of peace
the announcement of the shofar within the day.

Silent sun over blankets, over pavements
over breakfast cups and the enamelling of the tray
Yes. Not blessed enough every silent and live awakening
not yet sick not yet slave.