“From his earliest books, Petroni demonstrates his ability to move, while navigating the treacherous waters of literary prose, within a concrete narrative permeated by lyricism. His poems, too, are facts, set in a landscape, in a psychological perception, or sometimes in an anecdote from life, and rendered always with the surprising artistry of the Lucca-born craftsman; while, when set against the events of the war, they succeed in portraying a morality that is both sober and instinctive, expressed, above all, in his rejection of violence.” (Citation from the Premio della Critica award, January 5, 1960)
| GUERRA IN QUESTE MANI Guglielmo Petroni Che sorga un’alba in questa mezzanotte, che s’ottenebri il sole più lucente, che ti rovesci, o Terra, io sono senza guerra, grand’occhi aperti sopra tutto questo. Guerra sta in queste mani, in queste armi armoniose e indifferenti: guerra non è nel cuore. Forse nella memoria passa il vento che sperde le figure come un armento dentro la bufera; ma questi occhi son fermi e solitari. | WAR IN THESE HANDS Guglielmo Petroni Should a dawn rise in this noon of night, should darkness overcome the brightest sun, should you topple, oh Earth, I am without war, eyes open wide over all this. War is in these hands, in these harmonious and indifferent guns: war is not in my heart. Perhaps in my memory sweeps a wind that disperses the forms like a flock in the storm, yet these eyes are firm and solitary. Translation ©Matilda Colarossi 2026 |
The poem War is in these hands, by Guglielmo Petroni, was written in 1947 and can be found in Poesie, 1959, Neri Pozza Editore, Venezia. It is a reflection on the horrors of war, but it is also about the poet’s inborn ability to resist it.
While war destroys everything in its path, the poet’s eyes refuse to look away.
His hands obey―unconsciously―as do the harmonious and indifferent guns, for they are incapable of correlating reason and instinct, but his heart refuses to be won by it.
Memories of a past life too can be swept away by the tragic reality of the present―like flocks in a storm―but the poet’s eyes stay firm, for although solitary, he knows another way exists: peace.
Guglielmo Petroni was born in Lucca in 1911. First craftsman in the family business in Lucca, then painter, and later poet, in 1938 Petroni moved to Rome, where he became the editor of numerous literary magazines. In 1943 he took part in the Resistance, was arrested, condemned by a German military court, and finally freed upon the arrival of the Allies. He would live in Rome until his death in 1993. I discovered him only very recently, but it was love at first read. I feel that today his words are more than ever necessary, for we should all keep war out of our hearts and peace in our eyes as the only possible future. – M.C.
You can find more about the poet here: https://www.patriaindipendente.it/terza-pagina/guglielmo-petroni-la-scrittura-la-pittura-la-vita-quando-la-memoria-di-un-partigiano-torna-a-casa/
https://www.treccani.it/enciclopedia/guglielmo-petroni_(Dizionario-Biografico)/
https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guglielmo_Petroni
For books by and about the Guglielmo Petroni here: https://www.lafeltrinelli.it/algolia-search?ts=as&query=Guglielmo%20petroni&query_seo=Guglielmo%20petroni&qs=true
Image: Dove of Peace, Pablo PIcasso, 1961
This work is licenced under https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/
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