Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Ontario Educational Communications Authority, TVO

Lidia Chiarelli’s artwork studied in Ontario secondary school course AVI3M

The Poetry Tree: installation by Lidia Chiarelli (Immagine & Poesia)
as a homage to the Italian poet Guido Gozzano. Agliè (Torino)- June 2012

Hello,

With your kind permission, ILC (Independent Learning Centre) students have benefitted from viewing or reading your material in ILC secondary school courses.

This note is to inform you that the Ontario Educational Communications Authority, operating as TVO, in addition to being mandated by the Government of Ontario, Ministry of Education to offer online courses through its ILC for self-instructed distant learning, is now also mandated by the Ministry of Education to offer online courses through the Ontario School Boards for teacher led instruction.  In both instances, the TVO online courses are approved, meet Ontario Ministry of Education curriculum standards, and are made available only to registered Ontario students. 

TVO remains a not-for-profit, charitable organization funded by the Government of Ontario.

Thank you for your permission for TVO to use your content in our online courses and your continued support of TVO and Ontario students.

Sincerely,

Kate Petch (she/her)

Media Researcher/Archivist
Scheduling, Content, Records & Archive Management

Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Xosiyat Rustamova

Lidia Chiarelli interviewed by Xosiyat Rustamova in the newspaper “Kitob Dunyosi” (Book World)- Uzbekistan

INTERVIEW TO LIDIA CHIARELLI, Torino – Italy
1. What do you regard as your most important contribution to world literature?

In 2007 I founded the art-literary Movement IMMAGINE & POESIA (Image & Poetry) with Aeronwy Thomas, Dylan Thomas’ daughter. In the 10 points of the Manifesto we stated that a new, enhanced form of art could be created by the union of Art and Poetry.

Within a few years Immagine & Poesia rapidly spread via the web where collaborations between artists and poets are published, as well as through international exhibitions. Today the Movement includes hundreds of Poets and Artists from all over the world.

2. What would humanity be without the humanities?

In 1949 George Orwell showed us what happens in a world without the humanities. In his book Nineteen Eighty-four he spoke of a world where technology dominated and the power was in the hands of those who controlled it.

Once all creativity was extinguished, the human being became a larva, guarded at sight by telescreens, cameras, and hidden microphones, and completely succumbing to totalitarian rules.

Today I fully agree with the opinion of futurist  Gerd Leonhard who has analyzed  the impact of technologies on our world in his book  Technology vs. Humanity. Leonhardfears that our world is rapidly going to resemble Orwell’s science fiction. Moreover he has also invited the technologies leaders to embrace digital ethics.

3. How can people find the poetry in their lives?

We live in a wounded world, every day newspapers and television show  violence, wars, injustice…

The year 2020 has hit even more all the countries of the world with the rapid and relentless Covid 19 pandemic.

I believe that Poetry, both for those who write it and for those who read it, can be an antidote to the depression that grips many people today.

Poetry can illuminate life with a different perspective and make us see the light at the end of the tunnel.

4. How can poetry compete with social media?

Social media can enhance poetry and create new means of expression.

Instagram Poetry has recently risen as a new literary genre.

American writer Jamal Cadoura has been posting poetry on Instagram since 2015 and nowadays many others follow his path becoming Instapoets.

These types of poems are short, with a simple language and they are more visual than traditional poems.

Similarly, dozens of poetry groups have sprung up on socials such as Facebook and Twitter:

here Poets and their audiences can meet and  confront with the existential questions of our uncertain times.

Immagine & Poesia, Masudul Hoq

“Cox’s Bazar”, poem by Masudul Hoq, Bangladesh. Digital Art by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy


In the mirror, floating on the chest of the sea

sky built with marbled stone

Butterflies of the cloud and glass bottles

smell of salt rises in the goblet of people.

Shipra, Sifat and Major Sinha-

In search of black diamonds

lying on the beach, the perfume of the clouds

 Scattering in the air

Mask of fatigue and safety

Inani road and distant sky

Becomes face to face

Silver color is in the dove’s feathers  

Full of foam and 

Salty Cox’s Bazar wakes up …

None of us think about the death of spiders

Shipra emerges from the river ‘Chambal’…

The spirit of the forest, touches Sifat …

Major Sinha wants to go to Munipur …

They cover their age with clothes

One by one they are exiled

 meet at the beach

We have never heard their blood pronunciation,

Lover’s name

Which sleeps in their blood … sleeps …

However, we haven’t learn the name from the rain of the sea;

 We know the taste of autumn and orange

Among those who entered from Burma

Some like our ancestors

 brings the market of joy wrapped in paper

We also come to the beach on Sinha’s camera …

The safety mask is removed

The sound of bullets spread …

The smell of gunpowder makes us intoxicated

Yet our huts are being built on the shelf

The wind does not blow and neither do we

He nailed it to his chest

The wind digs our shelter

And we sleep like ants in the mountains of wind

We secretly sing:

Cox’s Bazar is our tent;

Cox’s Bazar is our wall and star.

(*Note: Cox’s Bazar is a tourist area in Bangladesh)

Masudul Hoq (1968) has a PhD in Aesthetics under Professor Hayat Mamud at Jahangirnagar University,Dhaka,Bangladesh. He is a contemporary Bengali poet,short story writer,translator and researcher. His previous published work includes short stories Tamakbari(1999), The poems Dhonimoy Palok(2000) , Dhadhashil Chaya which translated version is Shadow of Illusion(2005) and Jonmandher Swapna which translated version is Blind Man’s Dream (2010),translated by Kelly J. Copeland. Masudul Hoq also translated T.S. Eliot’s poem , Four Quartets(2012), Allen Ginsburg’s poem, Howl(2018), from English to Bengali. In the late 1990’s for 3 years he worked under a research fellowship at The Bangla Academy. Bangla Academy has published his two research books. His poems have been published in Chinese, Romanian ,Mandarin, Azarbaijanese, Turkish, Nepali and Spanish languages. At present he is a Professor of Philosophy in a government college, Bangladesh.

Ali Al-Hazmi, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli

“A Lover on the edge” poem by Ali Al-Hazmi, Saudi Arabia. Italian translation and Digital Art by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

Un amante al limite

Un amante stanco
anticipa l’inverno
inzuppato d’insonnia
nella sua stanza.

Ritorna da una notte angosciata,
carico di donne;
donne che lo hanno immerso
nel turbamento
di amari desideri
e tuttavia lo affascinano con le
loro braci femminili.

Ora, spegne l’ultima sigaretta.


I loro occhi viaggiano verso la strada lontana del desiderio.

La bella signora vaga
tra le sue palpebre,
tocca delicatamente le sue pupille,
attraversa le sponde del sogno
viene da lui

Ti amo, le dice.

Splendidi incantesimi scorrono dalle guance di lei

Che lui fissa a lungo

Fino a quando  la luna brilla nei suoi occhi;
una luna stremata dal desiderio.

Si avvicina a lei, la
circonda con le braccia …
ma lei lo abbandona,
vola con le sue rose
verso un altro cielo.

Alla fine della notte
si sentì solo
I suoi occhi  pieni di sofferenza,
gli sembrò di precipitare nel vuoto

Non si accorse che la bella signora era sdraiata vicino a lui,
nella sua stanza,
e da un muro
lo guardava attraverso la cornice di un ritratto
con gli occhi chiusi.

A Lover on the Edge

A fatigued lover throws himself into a winter, Filled up with emotional sleeplessness

In his room.

He returns from a distressed night

Burdened with women;

Women who rolled him down in prolonged agonies

Of embittered desires,

And still, captivate him with more embers of femininity.

Now, he is extinguishing his last bitter cigarette; His eyes travel towards a faraway path of wishes; The gorgeous lady passes through his eyelids, And softly touches his pupils,

When she crosses the shores of dream Towards him.

At the beginning of the night,

 She comes to him;

“I love,” he says to her.

Splendour charms stream off her cheeks, At which he stares for so long,

Till a faint moon shines in her eyes,

A moon, exhausted by desire.

He approaches to her,

Passes his hands on ………

But she deserts him,

She flew with her roses into the skies.

At the end of the night,

He was lonely;

With eyes bristled with misery,

He was about to submit to the void.

He noticed not that the gorgeous lady was laying close to him, In his room,

On a wall overlooking him

From the frames of a portrait

With sleeping eyes.

_________________


Ali Al-Hazmi (Biography)

* Born in Damadd, Saudi Arabia, in 1970.

* Obtained a degree in Arabic language and Literature at Umm Al-Qura University – Faculty of Arabic Language,1992.

* As early as the year 1985, the poet started publishing poems in a variety of local and Arabic cultural Periodicals such as The Seventh Day (Paris), Creativity (Cairo),

Nazoa (Amman) and The New Text.

The poet participated in a number of recital sessions of poetry inside and

outside of Saudi Arabia:

 International Poetry Festival, Costa Rica 2013.

 International Poetry Festival, Voix Vives in Toledo, Spain 2014.  International Poetry Festival, Punta del Este, Uruguay 2015.  Madrid Voice life Poetry Festival, Spain 2016.

 International Poetry Festival, Havana, Cuba 2016.

 International Poetry Festival, Medellín, Colombia 2016.

 Istanbul Poetry Festival, Turkey, 2016.

 International Poetry Festival, Roma 2017.

 International Academy Orient – Occident, Romania 2017.

 International Poetry Festival, Madrid, Spain 2017.

 International Poetry Festival, Malaga, Spain 2018.

 International Poetry Festival February, Madrid. Spain 2018. 82

 Publications:

 A Gate for the Body, Dar Almadina- Jeddah- 1993.

 Loss, Sharqiyat- Sharqueyat Pub. House, Cairo 2000.

 Deer Drink Its Own Image, Arab Cultural Center, Beirut 2004.

 Comfortable on the Edge, Riad-Al Rayes – Beirut 2009.

 Now in the Past, Arab Cultural Center-Beirut, 2018.

 Selected Poems (Audio CD Anthology) – Hail Literary Club, 2010.

Books Translated to Different Foreign Languages:

Trees of Absence, Translated into French-Lil-Dision – France 2016.

Comfortable on the Edge, Translated into Spanish by University of Costa Rica

Editorial 2013, House of Poetry Foundation.

Comfortable on the Edge, Translated into French- Larmatin – Paris 2016.

A Fragmented Life, Translated into Turkish – Art Shop Pub. House, Istanbul -Turkey 2017.

A definite Road in the Mist, Translated into English and Romanian language – Academy Orient – Occident – Romania 2017.

Take Me to My Body, Seleted Poems Translated into Serbian Language, Alma Publishing House, Belgrade, Serbia 2018.

A Road into the Wall, Translated into Macedonian Language, AkademskiPečat Publishing House, Macedonia, 2019.

 Comfortable on the Edge, Translated to Spanish, University of Costa Rica in Collaboration with The House of Poetry in Costa Rica, 2013.

Comfortable on the Edge, Translated to French, La Martin Publishing House, 2016. *Al Hazmiparticipated in more than 20 Anthologies in differentparts of theworld:

Colombia, Spain, Dominican, Germany, China, Turkey, Romania, Cuba and Serbia.

*The poet has recently signed a contract with Google to have the previlege of publishing some oh his Google Assistance Site.

Prizes:

* Medal of Poetry, Urugway, 2015.

* The World Grand Prize for Poetry, The International Academy Orient – Occident in Romania 2017.

* His Poem “A Road into the Wall” won Verbumlandia Prize in Italy, 2017.

* The Prize of the Best International Poet in 2018, The International Center for Translation and Poetry Research, China.

Ali Al-Hazmi, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli

“Lacrime sulle sue labbra bruciate dal sale” poem by Ali Al-Hazmi, Saudi Arabia. Italian translation and Digital Art by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

Lacrime sulle sue labbra bruciate dal sale

Vicino alla costa, costruivamo case di sabbia. Quando partì per la pesca, per l’ultima volta…

Siamo corsi a riportare le corde della rete alla sua piccola canoa.

Con le manine

Abbiamo salutato incessantemente le ultime onde che strappavano via la barca,

Lontano dai tempi della nostra infanzia.

Dietro le sbarre della finestra, le nostre testoline serrate; con gli occhi fissi sulla strada costiera;

Le ali della mamma spiegate sulle nostre piccole spalle

Mentre il suo corpo si insinuava tra i nostri;

Immensamente preoccupata per le nostre anime innocenti in erba.

Avevo paura che i suoi lunghi capelli potessero cedere al vento, se avesse camminato oltre la ringhiera di metallo;

L’ho tirata indietro verso il calore della stanza di legno; poi ho guardato la riva del mare impressa nei suoi occhi,

Allora vidi il mare avanzare ben oltre le case di sabbia.

“Ritornerà di sicuro” disse

Prima che le sue lacrime si posassero sulle mie labbra, le mie labbra bruciate dal sale.

Vent’anni non sono serviti a demolire le case di sabbia

Ai nostri occhi.

Il volto rinsecchito di mio padre, adagiato sulle onde, è diventato una finestra che guarda agli anni d’argento della nostra epoca; un’epoca abbandonata in trappole fangose.

Eppure, la mia amata madre nasconde i suoi rimpianti dietro la sua ombra. Ancora, al mattino,

Fa il pane fresco con i suoi sogni;

E a mezzanotte,

Riscalda ciò che resta dei suoi desideri sul fornello della sua anima. Ancora, ci fidiamo di lei e mangiamo il pane della sua menzogna,

Solo per continuare a vivere.

_______________________________________

Tears Rolling down Her Salted Burning Lips

Near the coast, we used to build sand homes. When he left for fishing, for the last time… We raced to return the trimmings of his net To his little canoe.

With little hands

We waved unceasingly to the last waves That snatched his boat away,

Away from the times of our childhood.

Behind the window bars, our little heads squeezed; With eyes fixed on the coast road;

Mother’s wings spread over our little shoulders

As she injected her body among ours;

Immensely worried about our budding innocent souls.

I was scared that her long hair may submit to the winds, If she forward on the metal rail ;

I drew her back towards the warmness of the timber room; Then I stared at the seashores dwelling in her eyes,

And saw the sea travelling far beyond the sand homes.

leant

 “Sure, he will return,” she said,

Before her tear floored upon my lips— mysalted burning lips.

Twenty years did not avail to demolish the sand homes

In our eyes.

The dried out face of my father, laid upon the waves Became a window thatlooks at the silver years of our age; An age abandoned in muddy traps.

Still, my beloved mother conceals her regrets behind her shadow. Still, on the mornings,

She makes fresh bread with her dreams;

And at midnights,

She reheats what remains of her wishes on the stove of her soul. Still, we trust her and eat the bread of her lie,

Just to live on

___________________

Ali Al-Hazmi (Biography)

* Born in Damadd, Saudi Arabia, in 1970.

* Obtained a degree in Arabic language and Literature at Umm Al-Qura University – Faculty of Arabic Language,1992.

* As early as the year 1985, the poet started publishing poems in a variety of local and Arabic cultural Periodicals such as The Seventh Day (Paris), Creativity (Cairo),

Nazoa (Amman) and The New Text.

The poet participated in a number of recital sessions of poetry inside and

outside of Saudi Arabia:

 International Poetry Festival, Costa Rica 2013.

 International Poetry Festival, Voix Vives in Toledo, Spain 2014.  International Poetry Festival, Punta del Este, Uruguay 2015.  Madrid Voice life Poetry Festival, Spain 2016.

 International Poetry Festival, Havana, Cuba 2016.

 International Poetry Festival, Medellín, Colombia 2016.

 Istanbul Poetry Festival, Turkey, 2016.

 International Poetry Festival, Roma 2017.

 International Academy Orient – Occident, Romania 2017.

 International Poetry Festival, Madrid, Spain 2017.

 International Poetry Festival, Malaga, Spain 2018.

 International Poetry Festival February, Madrid. Spain 2018. 82

 Publications:

 A Gate for the Body, Dar Almadina- Jeddah- 1993.

 Loss, Sharqiyat- Sharqueyat Pub. House, Cairo 2000.

 Deer Drink Its Own Image, Arab Cultural Center, Beirut 2004.

 Comfortable on the Edge, Riad-Al Rayes – Beirut 2009.

 Now in the Past, Arab Cultural Center-Beirut, 2018.

 Selected Poems (Audio CD Anthology) – Hail Literary Club, 2010.

Books Translated to Different Foreign Languages:

Trees of Absence, Translated into French-Lil-Dision – France 2016.

Comfortable on the Edge, Translated into Spanish by University of Costa Rica

Editorial 2013, House of Poetry Foundation.

Comfortable on the Edge, Translated into French- Larmatin – Paris 2016.

A Fragmented Life, Translated into Turkish – Art Shop Pub. House, Istanbul -Turkey 2017.

A definite Road in the Mist, Translated into English and Romanian language – Academy Orient – Occident – Romania 2017.

Take Me to My Body, Seleted Poems Translated into Serbian Language, Alma Publishing House, Belgrade, Serbia 2018.

A Road into the Wall, Translated into Macedonian Language, AkademskiPečat Publishing House, Macedonia, 2019.

 Comfortable on the Edge, Translated to Spanish, University of Costa Rica in Collaboration with The House of Poetry in Costa Rica, 2013.

Comfortable on the Edge, Translated to French, La Martin Publishing House, 2016. *Al Hazmi participated in more than 20 Anthologies in different parts of the world:

Colombia, Spain, Dominican, Germany, China, Turkey, Romania, Cuba and Serbia.

*The poet has recently signed a contract with Google to have the previlege of publishing some oh his poem son Google Assistance Site.

Prizes:

* Medal of Poetry, Urugway, 2015.

* The World Grand Prize for Poetry, The International Academy Orient – Occident in Romania 2017.

* His Poem “A Road into the Wall” won Verbumlandia Prize in Italy, 2017.

* The Prize of the Best International Poet in 2018, The International Center for Translation and Poetry Research, China.

Digital Collage, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Sue Zhu

“The Remembrance of Snow” poem by Sue Zhu, New Zealand. Italian translation and Digital Art by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

The remembrance of snow

by Sue Zhu (New Zealand)

A few snowflakes moved ahead towards JiangCheng*

Gently touched down on the shore, Until end of the year

They were kidnaped by the cruel cold wind

Recruited frantically the soldiers

And prepared horses to raid the city.

Everything was targeted

And no one was to escape

Now each object is covered with pale-whiteness

All faces, even doors and windows are masked

The lockdowns have locked the towns

Horror prevailed over plains and plateaus

From the Yangtze to the farthest end of the globe

Across the four oceans

From one season to another, there is a dance of death.

At the daytime snow seem soft and sporadic

But at night it is as hard as an iron block

I hear squeaking sounds of the branches and eaves being crushed

I hear some noises of avalanches at the distance.

Are they still those elegant elves?

Sobering at midnight, counting the Sheep, stars and days in silence

Peaceful holy moonlight

Shines on the white sheets and walls

with unlimited mercy and grace

People in sleepless plight struggle to pray

Long for the sooner

“The rooster crow louder at dawn… “**

(JiangCheng*: A nick name for Wuhan of China.

** “The rooster crow louder at dawn… “This sentence was quoted from poem titled “To the Wine” by Lihe who was a poet of Tang Dynasty of China, He describes that when dawn comes, the night ends, all the truth will come out. From the beginning of Coronavirus in Wuhan, it spread to all over the world, People are eager to know the truth where it came from to avoid it happening again in the future.)

IL MELETO DI GUIDO GOZZANO HONORABLE MENTION 2020

_______________

Il ricordo della neve

di Sue Zhu (Nuova Zelanda)

Alcuni fiocchi di neve si sono spostati verso JiangCheng*

Atterrano delicatamente sulla riva, fino alla fine dell’anno

Sono stati rapiti dal crudele vento freddo

I soldati reclutati freneticamente

E preparati i cavalli per razziare la città.

Tutto è stato preso di mira

E nessuno doveva scappare

Ora ogni oggetto è coperto di bianco pallido

Tutte le facce, anche le porte e le finestre sono mascherate

Le serrate hanno bloccato le città

L’orrore ha prevalso sulle pianure e sugli altipiani

Dallo Yangtze all’estremità più lontana del globo

Attraverso i quattro oceani

Da una stagione all’altra, c’è una danza di morte.

Di giorno la neve sembra morbida e sporadica

Ma di notte è dura come un blocco di ferro

Sento scricchiolii di rami e grondaie che vengono schiacciati

Sento dei rumori di valanghe in lontananza.

Sono ancora quegli elfi eleganti ?

Riflettendo  a mezzanotte, contando le pecore, le stelle e i giorni in silenzio

La luce della luna santa e pacifica

Brilla sui fogli bianchi e sulle pareti

con misericordia e grazia infinite

Le persone in preda all’ insonnia lottano per pregare

Desiderando appena possibile di sentire

“Il gallo canta più forte all’alba…”

(JiangCheng*: Un soprannome per Wuhan della Cina.

Bio: Sue Zhu, New Zealand Chinese poet, painter, entrepreneur. She is a member of the poetry institute of China, director of NZ Poem Art Association, honorary director of the US-China Cultural Association, advisor of some Chinese poetry clubs, a multi award winner in Chinese national poetry competitions.

Anna Keiko, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli

“An Empty Glass” poem by Anna Keiko, China. Art and Italian Translation by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

AN EMPTY GLASS

The cup full of the spring was in sight

it is a part of my body

I try to drink it

But when I tried to drink it

The glass was empty

Where did the water go

In no time?

Is the existence

no more than a glass of water?

It’s a mystery, it’s confusion

What happened?

Yesterday, I was here at the same time

and filled the glass

Would the water not have disappeared

if I had remained here?

Was my mind trapped in the glass

Or?

Anna Keiko, China

____________________________

UN BICCHIERE VUOTO

La coppa piena di acqua di fonte era in vista

Come una parte del mio corpo

Voglio provare a berla

Ma quando ho provato a bere

Il bicchiere era vuoto

Dov’è finita l’acqua

In così poco tempo?

L’esistenza non è forse

Poco  più di un bicchiere d’acqua?

È un mistero, è una confusione

Che cosa è successo?

Ieri, ero qui alla stessa ora

e ho riempito il bicchiere

L’acqua non sarebbe scomparsa

se fossi rimasta qui?

La mia mente era forse intrappolata nel bicchiere

Oppure?

Anna Keiko, Cina (Traduzione in italiano di Lidia Chiarelli)

Anna Keiko is a Chinese poet, member of the Pudong Writers Association president of the Shanghai Huifeng Literature Association. Her poetry has been published in many national and international magazines. She participated at several prestigious international poetry festivals

Immagine & Poesia, Khế Iêm, Lidia Chiarelli

“Black Cat” poem by Khe Iem, Vietnam. Digital Art by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

Khe Iem

THE BLACK CAT

The black cat with my soul and a piece of

my rib, wakes up every morning not

washing its face, every morning not

brushing its teeth; the black cat with clay-like

eyes, opening and closing, or open-

ing and never closing, as it climbs up

and down the stairs, dragging with it my soul

and a piece of my rib, forgetting that

i had lived much darker days, since when and

why it was i had buried them in my

pocket full of notes gathered from

many different tales, strung together

to make up this story about the black

cat with my soul and a piece of my rib;

of course, that is the black cat with clay-like

eyes, not any other kind of eyes; even

as the black cat climbs up and down the stairs.

Translated into English by J. Do Vinh

_________________

Note

“The Black Cat” is one of three very fine poems in the December 2007 edition of Poetry.about Forum (http://poetry.about.com).

THE CATS WILL KNOW _