Maria Ivana Trevisani Bach

Biologist, researcher, Secondary School teacher, Councillor of the Beigua Park. Animals, Nature, Ecology, and the battle against pollution are the themes of her literary works. Ivana Trevisani Bach endorses the “Ecopoetry” Movement, whose Italian Manifesto she wrote in 2005. The author’s work includes scientific and literary articles; a book of Ecopoetry (published by Serarcangeli, Rome), and books on animals (published by Mursia, Milan).

Presence at:

• Summer Conference at "": "Is Nature Writing dead?"    4-8 June 2012  The State University of New York at Oneonta
• I° Brazilian Congress on Literature and Ecocriticism: "The Languages of Nature" - Universidad de Paraiba (Brazil
• Composting Culture Conference Worcester University 2012
• CONGRESO INTERNACIONAL LITERATURA Y ECOCRÍTICA, Valladolid 29 - 31  julio 2014

UNIVERSITAS CASTELLAE

 

Yell of pain

 

 

From the millions of little, narrow,

stacked cages,

 

from the innocent fleshes, gashed

for sport,

by millions of gun shots,

 

from the glowing trucks,

travelling,

through the Earth’s roads,

 

from the thousands of iron chains,

 

raises

the one, immense,

awful

yell of pain,

of the animals of Earth.

                                                                                                                           

Stretched on the Sand

 

Eternal, sweet fading sunset

On the hesitant mother-of-pearl sea

 

I stretch out on the sand with open arms,

to feel at one with the earth.

To feel as if I were together with the past lives

extinguished on earth.

To feel as if  I were together with the future lives

that will light up again, for an instant,

to see the light of the same stars.

 

I stretched out on the sand with open arms,

in order to feel at one with the earth.

 

And I traveled with her at an extraordinary velocity.

And I let myself be carried in the immense emptiness

Swirling amidst the stars and planets, in ellipses and in spirals

apparently without sense.

 

I traveled in an edge of the Universe,

astonished at my evanescent, inexplicable Present.

And I rotated on this deranged carousel,

where the humans huddle and garbage piles.

And I felt lost amidst the stars and planets

The cries and explosions of the war.

 

Oh Earth, my raped and damaged Earth,

oh Earth, wretched disorder of the Mystery;

your fleeting Present belongs to me,

and your internal motion is the only Truth.

 

In the meantime, far away, profiles of sharp mountains

bite, with morsels already dark from the night,

the deep restless waters.

Meanwhile, I am stretched out on the sand,

still rotating in the vortex of the world.

 

 

Arson

 

Slender trunks, burned to ashes,

dead stumps of cut off arms

yell to the sky

the lost green.

 

 Black skeletons,

ghostly platforms

against red backcloths

where the sunset

burns

with frenetic fury

of tongues of flame.

 

Groan,

crackle,

yell

the burning coals

from the still living branches

of holms,

of myrtle,

and laurel.

 

They grieve

for the death of the wood

and I,

silently,

cry with them.

Maria Ivana Trevisani Bach