(Giorgio
Lanzani)
Also flickering suns
light up the hero’s house
at dawn
the kiss in the fog
trembling in a shred of darkness
exist
swallow's flight
animals of mercy
If you believe in the theory of the reincarnation
you can think that Chinellato is the reincarnation of some Christian warrior
escaped to the “impalazione” of the Moslems and that turns for the Venetian
Lagoon perfectly harnessed looking for Don Chisciotte some victim to behead. It
is not this way. It is a mild teacher of letters at least to the appearance. He
has the gift of the synthesis in almost inhuman way. We depart from “Also flickering suns“
From the sun it is passed in sudden way to a fog of
which swallows go out to reassure us some continuation of the life. Do the suns
tremble for the fate of the heroes? And
that kiss in the fog unites two lovers or or it is the kiss of Giuda that prelude
to the darkness that will wind the Golgota.. . Stimulus is marvelous that comes
us from these images, powerful and mild to unite the sun and the fog, the
heroes and the swallows: an admixture, an explosive cocktail that projects the
poetry of Chinellato toward unusual horizons.
The calibrated notes
of melody
in beds of fire
a miserable death
of blood
in dull eyes
the town relives
in the moment of one heartbeat
Again a
strong image in the beginning of a poetry of Chinellato. That to calibrate the
notes that knows about a military measurement notes that they set on fire the
pallets of whom listens almost to pits an enemy to destroy, perhaps the
desperation of the composer has still struck?
It is the death the subject of this composition a stingy death of blood,
in out pupils, beautiful image that set up against the city that relives at
that time that instant in which it seems that all the hearts pulsate in unison
and run the infernal rhythm of the life.
Caryatids of springs
move the celestial sphere
to beautify the creation
bear the verse
hours of blood
to unsaddIe the horses
in the night
A landscape
DeChirichiano caryatids that give place to the movement of celestial spheres
that rotate and then a to reflection of the poet a to refold on if it is almost
an auto invite to improve his composition. For then to reach the clou to the
explosion of the last part: here we have before a picture to dark shades,
unsaddled horses, blood riders only imagined that leave their life in a
terrestrial hell that set up forever against to the celestial sphere movement.
Dancing with nothing
in a variable growing sing‑song
the message
of cosmic Gods
To dance with the nothing brings us to a metaphysical
dance. These o cosmic divinities other are not that our consciences that
measure the nothing the being nothing of the being that materializes where in
the discoteques ipperreal where each is only and dances with himself the dance
of the life in the absolute nonexistence of deified human relationships and
disowned.
Cantilenes become in our souls the rhythms of the
life and the howls and the din of the becoming.
METALLIC LIGHT
Metallic light
to the crusader's mind
towards victory
Iced evenings
in the hand of seconds
This
light of metal is the beam of the armour is the light that illuminates the mind
of the warrior.
And
that it drives him in the night of the battle that illuminates his walk his deeds
his to put in game the life for any ideal it is. Those evenings of ice speak to us once more of death of cold,
while the time implacable sphere of seconds that rotates and ours accompanies
to burn of radiant meteors it accompanies us to the evenings when our body will
be of ice.
in the shadow of a roof-terrace
embroidering the cassock
of crimson velvet
it will be disclosed the secret
of our horizon
and there will be Joy
The woman attends to the shade of altane embroidering.
What does she attend? Her hero's return? The conclusion of prearranged time?
She attends a secret that will arrive from a heralding common horizon of joy.
The girl lies in the snow
honour to crusaders
of her mutation
the bones of the poet
sleeping on the bare ground
rot with quicklime
In this composition death is to the beginning and is
a young girl the young girl of the snow.
This honor to the crusaders is sarcastic. Death
returns in the last verses and is the death of the poet this time, naked his
bones it lies far, it decays it goes to putrefaction while the young girl of
the snow is eternal, she is of glass she is of ice she is incorruptible sneer
to the crusaders of the mutation.
The evening crowd is still trembling
towards the stormy home
flying in the night
time hurls a coin
quivering over the cross
at Judas' kiss
Extreme synthesis still the theme of the fog
of tear that recalls the first poetry that we have examined.
Again tremor of hearts, storm of the hearts in the
abodes torn from how much has happened. A cross where the child of God trembles
dying killed by the baseness of too small men.
THE SEA PERL
Dreaming in seaports
deep sea
within the birthplace of time
Sails torn by
a south-west wind
the galley captain
reached the heart
of Lepanto and declined the Turk
This poetry brings us the cradle of the
waves,the sleep of the warriors that return from their enterprises, deep sleep.
Perhaps under some altanas there is the woman that waits for them but it is
soon for returning home, first it takes the refreshing sleep. It needs to work
to the torn sails and while everything this happens who sleeps he dreams and
who works to the sails thinks about the captain and the defeated battle and the
victory craved loot of the last battle war to bring to his beloved.
UNIQUE IN THE WORLD
Day of victory
hearts will sing
like the stars
the town lives
a moment of miniature sepulchre
Again a contrast a victory where hearts reach the
stars to shout their joy it’s out from a real city where the sepulchre in
miniature is our miserable life of every day distant miles and glory miles from
stars and oneness. Everything is small decadent seriale, everything tears the poet's
heart been born to vast greater enterprises more to-storms that only in the
pages of his verses can live today.