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08 July 2018
Author :  
JULIO PAVANETTI (Montevideo, Uruguay, 1954)  is a Poet and a Cultural Promoter. He lives in Spain since 1977 and is founder and President of the international poets association “Liceo Poético de Benidorm”.
Honorary Vice President of the “World Organization of Poets, Writers and Artists”. Cultural Delegate for Uruguay of “Hispano-American Union of Writers”.
Director of the poetry collection "Azul" of Enkuadres Publishers, Alzira, Spain.
Director of the International Poetry Festival “Benidorm & Costa Blanca” (FIPBECO). Honorary Member of the American Academy of Modern Literature (USA).
Member founder of the Student Academy of Contemporary Art in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Member of the “Association of Spanish Writers and Artists”.
Member of the “Spanish Collegiate Association of Writers”.
Member of the “World Poetry Movement”.
He has published ten books, one of them bilingual Romanian/Spanish, published in Romania. His book “Al roce de la piel callada”, winner of the first prize in the contest of Aspe, Spain, in 2015, will be published soon in English / Spanish bilingual edition. He has participated in several international poetry festivals and has taken part in more than 50 international anthologies. He had received many awards, honors and recognitions, both for his poetry as for his cultural work. Many of his poems have been translated, into English, Italian, Catalan, French, Arabic, Romanian, Portuguese, Croatian, German, Dutch, Japanese, Turkish, Malay, Greek and Mycenaean Greek (Linear B), and have been published on innumerable national and international newspapers and literary magazines, both in digital and printed format.





They silenced our chant

they tear out our feathers

and cut our wings

without them they push us to the woods

they piled up hopeless moons

in a horizon that stopped escaping.


Not happy with cutting the chain

they broke links

and raped our houses

they confiscated letters to our parents

whilst beyond the sea

we had to survive with no news

when internet did not exist.


Located in our own abyss

we tried to connect our steps

to an unhurt hope

but in a shared reality

we stayed face to face with time.


We wandered as nomads

unknown and unlinked

we resist the disillusionment

of messy days in memory,

like lingering feelings in rebelliousness.


But we had survived

teaching exile in freedom

burning each one on them own way

in a fight against the sea that brought us

deaf rumours of absences.


Temporary lives with us

although it sleeps out in the open.


Human being gets used to everything,

some of us saw muses go away

while we tried to reborn

breathing peripheries.


Trapped in the net

that warps survival

muses slowly came back

others rediscovered them

drowning dictatorship on alcohol

but sooner or later all of us

came back to look for lost youth.


Life is like a wound that worsens with years.


© Julio Pavanetti 

Translated into English by Prof. Gabriela Pavanetti


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