poetry

La logica del merito | Chapter 2 – Crosses

La logica del merito | Chapter 2 – Crosses

Crosses Cross as destiny. Cross as a mark of hurt. Cross as the necessary stage where life stops for a while and where pain is concentrated. All of this is Crosses, the second chapter of “La logica del merito” by Sofia Fiorini, which we show you with a selection of photos inspired to the sea, in which Aunt(…)

Month of poetry | Rupi Kaur

Month of poetry | Rupi Kaur

Rupi Kaur Being ruthlessly accurate without sacrificing an innate sweetness. This is the gift of Rupi Kaur’s poetry: some sort a fascinating lightning grace. We honor this “tender and powerful” book with the first poem from the second section the loving. Not a feminine poem, not a feminist one: just beautifully universal. Essere spietatamente esatta(…)

La logica del merito | Chapter 1 – Promises

La logica del merito | Chapter 1 – Promises

Promises The Berry Wave proposes to tell through images the story Sofia Fiorini has built with words in her debut book “La logica del merito”. Five chapters describe a falling and rising journey, in which promises are the starting point: a concise and severe path of death and rebirth. Our visual reworking of it is dyed of vintage(…)

Month of poetry | W. Szymborska

Month of poetry | W. Szymborska

Wisława Szymborska The greatness of the poetic voice lies in the amazing ability to be both timeless and part of our daily life. Wislawa Szymborska, with the power of a clear and clean speech, still resonates to us as a novelty. Today we rediscover one of the most famous and universally loved poems of her. La(…)

Month of poetry | E.E. Cummings

Month of poetry | E.E. Cummings

Edward Estlin Cummings The month of poetry is a dedicated space through which The Berry Wave rediscovers timeless words: we inaugurate it with a poem by E. Cummings, from “Tulips and Chimneys”. Hope you enjoy it! Il mese della poesia è uno spazio che The Berry Wave dedica alle parole sopravvissute al tempo: lo inauguriamo con(…)

Ottobre

Ottobre

    Si ripiegano i bianchi abiti estivi e tu discendi sulla meridiana, dolce Ottobre, e sui nidi. Trema l’ultimo canto nelle altane dove sole era l’ombra ed ombra il sole, tra gli affanni sopiti. E mentre indugia tiepida la rosa l’amara bacca già stilla il sapore dei sorridenti addii.   Cristina Campo, da Passo(…)