The Poet Francesco Favetta was born in the land of Sicily in Sciacca, he has always loved poetry, writing verses, but above all culture, food for the soul: culture is Freedom, it is Free Spirit, it is Soul in Motion, not should never be harnessed!
In 2018 he was awarded the Academician of Sicily by the Accademia di Sicilia.
He has been published in various anthologies and magazines, among which we mention a few:
international magazine The Poet;
Revista Azahar which edited the first anthology of poems in Spanish: Encantamiento y Palabras como Plumas;
Anthology The Silk Road Anthology: Nano Poems for Africa; “Poetic Galaxy Atunis”;
WorldSmith International Editorial; OPA The Poetry Journal; Innombrable magazine; Polis Magazine; rank of minister in the Order of the Titan and publication of a lyric in Octobermania;
international literary magazine Kavya Kishor in Bangladesh;
international magazine of language, literature and culture “Petrushka Nastamba” Serbia; international magazine, Namaste India and certificate of appreciation;
Different Truths social journalism platform;
Cisne Revista Digital;
Humanity magazine St. Petersburg; fourth Panorama International Literature Festival Spain, delegate for Italy.
He founded a theater company in Sciacca: “Theatrum Socialis Sciacca”, and a Lions Club, “Sciacca Terme”.
Finally, the Poet Francesco Favetta is convinced that Poetry will be the weapon with which humanity will set its life free, and furthermore that Beauty will always be a truth, which will never be buried:
from the times and events of daily human life
Francesco Favetta (Sciacca) Sicily
Who will remain man?
Because you man
kill your brothers
raise your hand to throw
to unleash your hatred
against your own flesh
your human roots.
What is your value
nowadays man
when your every breath
poisons instantly
the song of peace
and the beauty of hearts.
Who will remain man
after your poison exhaled
on innocent human lives
and where will love be
hope removed from heaven.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
To Palestinian children!
Countless times
these silent voices
they were drowned
inside the caves of the world
and also late on the lips
they were never released
in the alleys of time.
Always mutilate in hearts
the innocent voices of children
I’m still here in the dark
and they scream the pain in the words
heavy as hammers
their fate remains written
in death which is the due end.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
The voice of time
The voice of time
in his eternal songs
merciless
tell the story
hollows out his face
wise nourishes the roots
and teaches how to live
in the dances of life.
Odd or even
they don’t count inside the veins
it will be a storm
or I sing in my heart
in this sea of mine
they always drown
everyday
love and freedom.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
Innocents without out a land
Where is Peace
in the long flowing river
bringing in the waters
in the womb wet from war
trails of blood and mourning.
I am still
the desperate roots
of innocents without a land
and the cruelties within the walls
to pay for oblivion and silence.
In this desert
huge in the heart
their mouths remain silent
of those men killed
from the brother close behind.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
I’m far from the world!
I get lost
on full moon nights
and I abandon myself
ruining on me
in inner silence
finding peace again
that thin veil that covers
existence and the life of days.
I am far from the world
in this sea
mysterious
I breathe acrid and salty breath
and it’s nice to drown in it
and navigate it without routes
drifting over time
beyond the visible horizon.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
The lo silence of life!
The armed hand
from anger
it is the death of humanity
it is the wind that sweeps
human lives
from the roots of the world.
Not even chains
they stop the violence
so fierce on the skin
and the scent of death
on the helpless bodies of children.
And then it is in the silences
the collapse of reality
on darkened faiths
from black evil
and of every violated truth
raped by iron.
The man
he became the executioner
the murderer of religions
the accomplice of the end
of earthly existence
of a tortured people.
Tomorrow will be
the day of death
today instead it arose
the silence on the faces
but yesterday it was celebrated
the day of mourning.
The day after tomorrow he will be born
the day of destiny
born from the rite of power
on the lives of innocent souls
soaked in red blood
slaughtered by the hands of their brothers.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
