Francesco Guccini
Stagioni

THE REVIEW

"I, Francesco Guccini, eternal student, because the subject of study would be infinite and above all because I know that I know nothing".

The essence of the poet in a few words. Words that resonate with humble awareness of the power of one's own simplicity. Weaving imaginative phrases in the service of memories as strong as they are fragile. The commitment combined with love for one's land, for one's ideals. The anger that assumes the role of the direct author of texts when those same memories prevail. The courage to persist just when it seems like it's too much. Is it really worth pretending that dawn has come when, in reality, there is no trace of the sun? The huffing repetitiveness of someone who makes truth their creed and with it their reason for coloring blank pages with dreamy texts on roads of hypocritical consciences not always up to receiving the alarm of an impending drift around the corner. The importance of thoughts faded by time, crumpled by the passage of so many won and lost battles. It's hard to believe in the staggering coherence of words heavy as boulders hurled at heads little inclined to comprehension. One day this sun will set and nothing will remain but the dusty and yellowed legacy, pervaded by wise silence, of a man capable of shouting without making the slightest noise.