John Keats
John Keats Marco Montagnin Literature She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must dieOde to PsycheO Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear,And pardon that thy secrets…
Giovannino Guareschi
Giovannino Guareschi The Little World Gabriele Dessin Literature For it is the broad, eternal breath of the river that cleanses the air. Of the placid, majestic river, on the bank…
Here lies One Whose name was writ in water
Here lies One Whose name was writ in water John Keats Marco Montagnin Literature I weep for Adonais—he is dead!Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tearsThaw not the frost which…
We will not obtain it today, but we will represent ourselves tomorrow
We will not obtain it today, but we will represent ourselves tomorrow Anna Maria Mozzoni Gisella Lombardi Literature Women's emancipation as an autonomous political goal, ought to be pursued with…
Necropolis
Necropolis Arvid Literature And it is at that precise moment that you step out of time, that you feel alive in the company of the dead. Life flows rhythmically in time,…
Maria Montessori – The Teacher
Maria Montessori The Teacher Gisella Lombardi Literature A giant, an icon, such a well known figure is a rarity for these pages and for women in Italian history. And yet,…
Abelard and Héloïse
Abelard and Héloïse Marco Montagnin Literature But love remained: a helpless love, a distant memory that breached the mind by flooding it with memories; it was no longer a carnal…
Anna Kuliscioff
Anna Kuliscioff «The only man of the socialist party» Gisella Lombardi Literature Nearly altogether housebound, she goes back to politics full time. 1892 is the year of the founding of…
The Bold One: Sibilla Aleramo
The Bold One Sibilla Aleramo Gisella Lombardi Literature “Do we have a right to live for ourselves?” “Do we have a right to live for ourselves?” To this question, Sibilla…
On Art’s Utility
On Art’s Utility Marco Montagnin Literature Since it does not generate money, art is most certainly unuseful. El poeta comienza donde termina el hombre. La suerte del hombre es vivir…