Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Shurouk Hammod, Uncategorized

“Me” poem by Shurouk Hammoud , image and Italian translation by Lidia Chiarelli



I’m just a heart broken woman

Who wants to know why you had left her

And forgot your shadow on her hands

Printing its pale color

On the palms of all those who shake her hands

I am just a woman

Who tries with poetry

To iron the wrinkles of her salty soul

Before returning it back to heaven



Sono solo una donna spezzata
Chi vuole sapere perché l’hai lasciata
E hai dimenticato la tua ombra sulle sue mani
Che imprimono il colore pallido
Sulle palme di tutti quelli che stringono le sue mani
Sono solo una donna
Che prova con la poesia
Ad attenuare le rughe della sua anima ferita
Prima di restituirla al paradiso


Shurouk Hammoud born in 1982 , a Syrian poetess, literary translator, BA of arts graduate and a master degree graduate of text translation, Damascus University.
She has three published poetry collections in Arabic language and one published poetry collection in English titled: (the night papers), in addition; excerpts of her poetry that have been published in many poetry anthologies in France, Serbia, Netherlands and India,
A member of Palestinian writers and journalists union.
An honorary member at NAJI Naaman international library of honorary culture.
Award winner of many local and international poetry awards


Armenuhi Sisyan, Immagine & Poesia, Lidia Chiarelli, Uncategorized

The Lonely Rose, poem by Armenuhi Sisyan, image and translation into Italian by Lidia Chiarelli


The Lonely Rose


How tenderly

that lonely rose

smiles to the Sun,

to the Sky,

to me.

Blooming alone,

swinging alone,

while, knowing that  she’s lonely

in front of the Sky,

Sun and me.

How beautifully alone is that rose!

What shall I do now?

I’d rather get closer to her,

approach her for the sun

and for the sky as well.


La rosa solitaria


Quanto teneramente

quella rosa solitaria

sorride al sole,

al cielo,

a me.

Fiorire da sola,

oscillare da sola,

mentre  sa che lei è sola

di fronte al Cielo,

il Sole e me.

Quanto è bella da sola quella rosa!

Cosa dovrei fare ora?

Preferirei avvicinarmi a lei,

avvicinarmi a lei per il sole

e anche per il cielo.