Biography of Roberto Amato
Roberto Amato ( Viareggio , 1953 ) is a writer and poet Italian .
Roberto Amato was born in Viareggio , where he still lives in 1953 . Discovered by Manlio Cancogni , he began in 2003 with the collection of poems The Celestial Kitchens with which he won the Viareggio Prize for poetry. Three years later with the Travel Agency , a novel in verse form, he won the Spallicci Prize . Still tripping between lyricism and fiction his third test: The 2009 Tree Designer . The next two years The High Water , followed by a 2012 novelist with The Wise Writer . His last book, Separate cities , Marks the return to poetry. Collaborator with the Comparisons and New Arguments  magazines , is the same as the writer of books for children Roberto Amato who writes for Zephyro Edizioni.
Roberto Amato Poems
We happened to enter unfamiliar places
We happened to enter unfamiliar places for example my bathroom or your broom closet. Then we observed our domestic animals at length especially the owl (a bad omen
You may say that between me and you
You may say that between me and you a world exists that no-one can see. A world of children and schools and of slices of bread and butter and enormous
. . . And yet
. . . and yet it happens when I put my hand there
The water is as green as an infusion
The water is as green as an infusion an overcooked nettle chowder: it was boiled for much too long and for . . . a time that was so interminable it can no longer
I don't want anyone to accompany me beyo...
I don't want anyone to accompany me beyond the bridge (where the last stair descends the water and the gondoliers get lost)
The pigeons on this obscure meadow are c...
The pigeons on this obscure meadow are completely black and they don't cross the water in flight they walk on bridges with stone steps and parapets painted with egg tempera
This past night I found myself drowning ...
This past night I found myself drowning in quicksand the bed kept falling to one side and there was no safety even on the deck of the pillow
Yes she may be right but eternity has got incredibly smaller and I am quite fond of these angels
So very little time
So very little time to write to you eternity has shrunk and my wife is taking me away
I believed I was me
I believed I was me when I lay beside myself at night (on my right side so I could turn my back to the world). My mother was not yet me
The infinite is like this
The infinite is like this: there are only the things I like. For example
Yesterday I visited the house of Leopard...
Yesterday I visited the house of Leopardi. A beautiful apartment on the Lungarno. The custodian was a sleepy sort of man.
There are goats up there
There are goats up there as always in place of the doves. There are noises that keep the world awake. There I am and I'm moving
The pigeons listen to us converse.
The pigeons listen to us converse. We talk about things that are almost impossible: the open-air theatre of Terpsichore
she may be right
but eternity has got incredibly smaller
and I am quite fond of these angels
I understand them completely
I know what they are telling me
I know why they are caressing me