Late And Stringy Period

Brief Note on readings of Napoleon and the relationship that had with books

Iomare Alessandra Palombo

Anna Maria Fabiano


"I've never seen the sea for the first time, a few days I rested o'er."


This happens to those born near the sea, almost part of it: so is Sandra Palumbo, a member of the Committee Directors of the National Center for the Study of History and Napoleon on Elba, who feels that relies on the island and sea gulls and salt air of the Island's history of itself, of his emotions and his moods grow between and wrecks, rafts and gulls , escapes and returns.

E horizons to sail through the changing nature of the choreography of the Seas, which is no coincidence that the story is told in the plural. Among

quotes, excerpts of articles, meditations on the meaning of the poem, on the impossibility of determining a poetry that is universal, it is true, as true as the sea and looking for poetry, through the logos, to escape reality and not forging, prejudice mutability and transformation, Sandra creates her pages from first to seventh sea, accompanied in his biography entrusted to one side, a memory, a omen, a search of abstraction Calvino in his corner, free from the shackles of being there without a merger with the spirit and freedom of expression.

Find me in my sea,

to understand who I am

first impact with the inner life, with a search for knowledge, with a road, what you want, with those of silk petals falling on the real ones , dreams, and dreams do not need to know and grasp, leaving salt.


Behind the berries are still green holly bush

snuff a presence ...

sea cradles and uncertainty, perhaps sometimes makes palpable but other times you mate escapes and secret refuges in chants of living.


Since I learned to respect the sea wind: the ambivalent sea, life and death at the same time, discovery and dreams, but also in the whirlpool and attraction that draws voluptuous siren song of the logic of the trip.


Three girls in the evening gown
spiluccavano the dark
indigestible texts and wine from Puglia

and try another escape, dreaming of going away, of a prison to free float the business, who is posting island and at the same time and attraction, escape, to return, to direct the vessel to be confused ... for and against the stern with the bow and the distance with the neighbor.


Among the howling of the ancient stone, the woman hobbled


woman of the sea, taking shelter under a coverlet of rain, and shells, books, bonfires, the body that bracket body to perceive and know how to woman lost in trembling fantasies, passion and sigh again and look moist sand and sun that melts the earth.


Suddenly, a fog bank

weakens the light.


Forgetfulness, short stories East, escape and fantasy, as long as you writhe in itself, past, present or future without dichotomy passage; all is lost in a cozy feeling, with the tide, massage and water mist that steams up the conscious perception, and foam interior desert, which swells with the wind and dives in the depths.


If my salvation lies in becoming barren oyster shell, moray insidious, poisonous scorpion in my blue m'inarco em'immergo to emerge in me.


the woman is a strange animal on the island, is the border between sea and sky, is starting, it's back is winning and losing, look at the horizon and the end is itself horizon.


beautiful photos taken from my book The terrace on the Island of Elba Gloria Chilanti and non-fiction and technical support of poets Manrico Murzi, George Weiss, Luigi and Toni Cignoni Bergera Iomare give the book an air of solemnity and importance which the author deserves a poem made of flesh and depth of soul sensual and mystical at the same time, and especially true because the report concise and systematic born with their own inner life and a human story of torment and participation continues to live and to sew on scraps of life as pieces of a great puzzle.