Ada Rizzo 

In the Silence of the World

I open my eyes  

peace is still locked away in the drawer of dreams  

It dwells in the inner universe of each one,  

a heavy cocoon, it cannot become a butterfly,  

it struggles to fly beyond words and futile wars  

It wishes to rest between the eyelashes of a child to lull him into serene sleep  

It longs to transform every mortar blast  

into a symphony of life  

that resonates in the silence of our souls  

Long is the journey of peace,  

fraught with pitfalls,  

walls to break down,  

bridges of courage to build,  

to traverse together, step by step.  

Let each of us become the creator of a work of art,  

a delicate fabric in which the warp and weft are intertwined threads of hope and dreams.  

In this dark, impoverished world,  

may peace be light for our hopes,  

an invitation to see diversity  

not as a threat but as an opportunity.  

In the silence of the world, the call for peace resonates every day: let us listen to it!  

Two Faces of the Moon

In a corner of the world, two hearts dance together  

Pure souls that thirst for love  

Eyes into eyes weave stories  

Small hands caress the gazes of those who have seen the world and its strange plans  

Innocent laughter and wise words  

A small stream and a river flow toward the same ocean  

Two faces of the moon move forward on a bridge hand in hand  

Wisdom and wonder… an elderly woman and a little girl

Solitude

I walk alone  

Every step bounces into the void  

Every sigh grows heavy  

Among the shadows of thoughts, the world seems farther away, and loneliness no longer hurts  

It’s a transparent embrace that sometimes becomes poetry  

It’s a calm and silent horizon for my lost and found soul  

Life occasionally reveals its mysteries to me  

I’ve learned to dance with the shadow, and in the embrace, it has turned into light  

There’s no longer a lack of breath now; the pain has transformed  

It’s now a beacon guiding a heart on its journey, mine.  

Women

Women who uphold an uncertain and suspended world  

Women whose arms, if lowered, would cause the very sky to fall  

Do you see them? They are as strong as white cliffs battered by the Maestrale winds of life  

Do you hear them? Often they sing in the dark, but they are not crazy; they summon courage to chase away fear.  

And at night, they dream of a buttery future that they will spread on their slices of bread at breakfast in the morning, adding love for their children.  

They are strong because they have had no other choice, but they need a warm embrace, time, and tenderness to confront the violence that dances in the dark.  

In the silence of night, they dry their tears, gather their dreams, and keep them like small glimmers to illuminate a dawn that is yet to come.  

Their hands interweade threads of courage, strength, and fragility like weft and warp of an invisible fabric that wraps around and supports their souls.  

As the world moves at the mercy of the winds, the women remain steadfast and radiate light like a beacon in the midst of the storm.  

One, none, a hundred thousand women walking lightly and unrelentingly along their path, shining because they have chosen to denounce the violence disguised as love…  

they have chosen to continue shining despite everything.

Light in the darkness

In the silent night, a cry  

Another story of stolen dreams  

Fragments of life cast aside next to a woman who weeps for her body, her soul  

No more smiles, no more promises  

Shattered dreams rolling on the ground like beads from a broken necklace  

She is a warrior without weapons, yet even so violated, she is not an object, a shadow in the dark,  

She will rise again as she is the strength of those who do not give up, she is the mother, the witch, the sister, the daughter, she is all of us women who fight to shine. 

She is a full moon of light, an explosion of fire.  

She is the infinite woman, the creator of life who defies every pain and from the darkness… is reborn!

Whispers of Autumn

In the sweet embrace of dancing autumn,  

light merges with dusk,  

a magical moment, a gentle sweetness,  

where the day lets itself sigh.  

Colors ignite, warm and bright,  

trees don dresses of gold and copper,  

leaves crumple beneath soft footsteps  

like whispers of lovers.  

Each breath is a petal falling under a sky that seems to embrace clouds dyed in velvet red.  

A sip of warm tea, a page of poetry,  

memories intertwine like leaves in the wind,  

and I lose myself in the time that flows gently  

in this in-between season that wraps me in a magical enchantment.

Mama Africa

Every dawn, the day unfolds,  

an embrace of life and a sky that reveals  

the richness of little things.  

Light and darkness, a suspended rhythm,  

time stretches, bends, dances.  

Humanity that lives and rises.  

Happy with little, it moves forward, loves,  

the beauty in gesture, in the constant smile,  

in every glance, an entire universe.  

Your vibrant soul is warmth and poetry,  

an ancient song of freedom that enchants and ignites.  

It teaches to live in the present,  

to dance with the wind, embracing fate,  

to find in every moment an enveloping sense,  

to discover that true wealth lies in the journey,  

in every instant, it is here and now.

Ada Rizzo – Unpublished poem

Ahoo Daryaei, the girl of freedom

Where have you been imprisoned, where are you now?

The soldiers stopped you…

A rebellious lock escaped from your veil.

Your courage enveloped you completely

when you let your long black hair loose

and your clothes on the ground were broken chains.

Calmly, you crossed your arms to muster your courage

and walked across that long courtyard determined and proud,

step by step, dressed only in dignity and freedom.

Burkas of defeated gazes saw you, but no companion dared to follow you.

You, a discordant note, a silent scream in the deafening silence,

defied the world with your head held high, dreaming of freedom!

A car arrived, brutal hands took you.

They said you are crazy,

those poor deluded souls don’t know

that now you are a heroine?

That on that floor the sky bowed to you?

Your body is a manifesto of love,

your skin, living ink that writes words of freedom

for other burkas that will fall on the pavement and break other chains.

Where are you now?

Whoever took you away will never smell the scent of freedom in your black hair dancing in the wind!

Envy

Other people’s dreams, like stars, shine,  

while the heart closes  

Joy fades, a grip tightens around the throat  

Gazes sharp as glass blades  

seek the darkness in the rays of those who shine  

Arid hands scatter ash in front of a closed door  

They belong to someone who has lost the key…  

They will never know that beyond that entrance lies a treasure: their heart.

 MAGIC SEA

Where the blue meets the infinite,  

the sea whispers ancient stories.  

The waves dance, a deep breath,  

lace of foam playing and breaking,  

each retreat a secret revealed,  

a sweet song carried by the wind.  

Shells, treasures on the shore,  

dreams confined, glimmering with life,  

telling of distant journeys,  

of waves to be tamed.  

At dawn and at dusk, the sun paints  

tapestries of gold on shifting backgrounds,  

with brushes of mint and rosemary.  

In the evening, the sea cloaks itself in blue  

and in its embrace, the soul finds peace.  

Sometimes it is rebellious,  

the wind stirs a stormy song,  

in its powerful roar  

the force of nature is always present.  

In every drop, an echo of divinity,  

an invisible cord that unites realities,  

the sea, a friend, a mute dialogue, eternal,  

in its breath, we find our inner selves.  

Listen to its song, breathe,  

let go … it’s the magic of the sea.  

MY DAUGHTER

My daughter,  

I don’t have much to give you… only unconditional love.

We are travelers on the roads of choices,  

the love for yourself will be the key to opening new doors.

Your happiness is not a role to play,  

it’s not in a heart, it’s not in a name,  

it’s in the smile you learn to cultivate,  

in the way you can shine, in your sweet form.

If a partner makes you suffer, leaves you alone,  

remember that true companionship is that reflection you see in the mirror,  

you are your own home, your only kingdom, refuge,  

you are enough, and you can take care of yourself like no one else can.

You will learn to mix sweetness and flour,  

to dance with flavors, to play with colors,  

because every gesture can become poetry.

Every day that passes,  

new passions and loves will inhabit the pages of your life.

Be wonderfully imperfect, unique,  

do not be afraid to make mistakes, do not fear failure,  

for every mistake hides a seed of strength.

Grow among the clouds, learn to bloom,  

accept that bonds can break, but the soul is eternal,  

be true to your dreams, to what surrounds you, to your soul  

because true betrayal is betraying yourself.

Sometimes you won’t be able to forgive, sometimes you will hate,  

but indifference will be the armor that envelops your fragility  

until you open up to a new love.

My daughter, make mistakes, live, take the colors of life,  

stretch a rainbow with the gentle touch of your soul,  

and each day will be a hymn to life.

YOU LEFT ME A GIFT

I was a child when pain took me by the hand.  

I didn’t want us to become friends, but it was much stronger than me.  

Like impalpable ash, it clung to my skin,  

its cold whisper wrapped around my thoughts.  

At first, it was a cold wind that didn’t know where to go,  

bringing with it unwanted gifts:  

long days, sharp as blades,  

hours beating on an unheard drum.  

For a long time, my heart was an echo in the silence of empty rooms,  

but here, unexpectedly, a moment arrives,  

I see with new eyes, I observe the world’s indifference, the solitude,  

material poverty and intellectual destitution,  

the anguish that gives no respite when the dark lady knocks at the door,  

the promise of God who swears to be there but isn’t there to gather the pain and shattered dreams of a child, the raw flesh of war that can have no future.  

I looked at pain and felt pity for it,  

I took it by the hand, caressed it,  

dressed it with bandages of emotions and words,  

I peered into its eyes,  

a black abyss of fear,  

of fallen dreams, sobs, silent screams.  

I embraced it, and it transformed into strength, tenderness.  

It became a laugh, a light,  

it became a woven with a warp and weft, 

intertwined with threads of courage and hope.  

So, I carry it with me,  

an uncomfortable companion, but also a teacher.  

A friend who wispers to me:  

“Look at life, it’s a sublime mosaic,  

it’s in the chaos of fragments, in the cracks that light passes through.”  

My pain was a pale falling star; now it is light.  

I listen to my soul, I proceed on my journey,  

I know the beauty that lies in what I embrace.  

I met pain, 

welcomed it, and it left me a gift…

KINDNESS

Kind people are works of art,  

they have eyes that smile and embrace.  

When you meet them, remember that you are receiving a gift from the universe.  

You recognize kind souls.  

They do not invade your space,  

they create no hurry  

they respect life,  

they know that every existence is unique.  

Kind souls  

are attentive beings,  

they don’t put you in a corner but flood the empty spaces  

to help you shine.  

They bloom everywhere, they have no fences.  

Kind souls are masterpieces sculpted by time, often by pain.  

 TO BECOME CHILDREN

It is not by bowing down that we can reach them;  

we must rise to touch the light that radiates from our little masters,  

wise in a pure knowledge that only the heart can reveal.  

They live in the here and now;  

Their life is a dance,  

a game in which the soul gets lost,  

time becomes a silent friend.  

Never trust children!  

They speak of great truths,  

they tell fearlessly, with an innocence that disarms,  

they reveal phrases that tear the veil of our adult, confused world.  

They look beyond appearances,  

they value the invisible,  

they seek the beauty of small things.  

In their eyes, there is an entire universe,  

an explosion of possibilities.  

They have the courage of imagination,  

they desire the impossible,  

they dream the unimaginable,  

while we, busy adults,  

forget the needs  

that we have set aside over time.  

Children have no boundaries; they do not know malice; they love.  

Their fervor illuminates the darkness.  

They are galaxies of little stars  

contained in miniature bodies.  

Their emotions, their thoughts  

often escape our radars as adults, lost in the mazes of reason.  

Children dance upon the wonders of the world;  

they are a spark of eternity that lights us up,  

a vibrant sea where wonder reigns.  

Children are a surprise, a gift,  

a great mystery that remains hidden…  

until we return to essence,  

to rediscover the magic of what we once were,  

and still can be…  

It takes a lifetime to become children.

It’s Christmas every time…

It’s Christmas every time

an embrace opens up

from the rigid shell of the Earth

to reject wars.

It’s the kindness that gently wraps around you

like a ray of sunshine resting upon the heart.

It’s Christmas every time you

choose to extend a hand,

to dissolve hatred,

to make a smile bloom.

It’s Christmas every time you

listen to the other,

understand their suffering,

sing their melody when they have lost their words, their emotions,

share in their regained joy.

It’s Christmas every time you

reject indifference

and move forward determined to change your existence.

Even in the midst of hatred, of war,

your essence becomes presence,

it’s an act of love,

hope, a prelude to peace.

The true Christmas

is in the humanity that moves forward, that loves, that welcomes,

it’s the light of a starlit night

that illuminates the path.

Beyond That Wall

A wind of hatred blows  

a chilly mantle over the Earth  

Violence darkens the sky  

suffocates the heart of every man.  

No more bridges, houses, childlike voices  

only walls and stones and blood  

mute spectators of mothers’ torment.  

A long sequence of moments marks the horror.  

The future has surrendered.  

Where is the love that shone like the summer sun?  

Where is the beauty, the art that illuminated everything?  

The gaze perceives the futility of another stupid war  

battles with no winners no losers,  

scorched earth and tears of lead over lives erased forever.  

My soul remains silent but does not surrender…  

it is beyond that wall, beyond every war.  

Under that sky, one day, love will warm men  

under that sky, one day  

peace will break out!  

Friendship

A friend 

knows the melody of your heart

He sings that song

When you have forgotten the words.

Mother Water, the Voice of the Planet

In a breath of wind, it dances lightly, 

water flows, a transparent treasure, a reflection of the sky.  

It sleeps in lakes kissed by the moon, where silence is a veil.  

It is soft snow, melting in the sun,  

a hug of life among stones and words.

Where sea and land unite,  

the waves whisper stories,  

each wave an echo, each shore a destiny.  

Water is strength, it is calm, it is storm and weeping,  

it is infinite beauty, it is a reflection of life.  

In its gentle embrace, every sorrow fades, every essence is found.

Water that flows and embraces the earth,  

mother that quenches, that works and nurtures,  

whisper of life,  

heartbeat of the planet.

Sacred element in danger,  

slips away like sand between the fingers.

Silent scream of the world,  

asking for help,  

calling its children.  

A small gesture,  

a conscious choice,  

because every drop counts.  

Every voice resonates.

We can rewrite  

the story of water,  

rediscover balance,  

envision a future  

where every form of life  

will have its dance of water.

Water is life, a precious heritage.  

We are part of the solution,  

the choice is in our hands.

I, Survivor

As I exit the courtroom, I look at my rapist, or rather, I challenge his gaze so fiercely that he lowers his head. I could tell him, “If you’re hoping my heart will explode and that I will die, forget about it!” Instead, I say, “Know that there were moments when I feared I wouldn’t make it, but I managed to get through it. The rape was not just an unfortunate incident during a night of sex. You planned it all. Stop pretending. You punished me because I said no; you raped me because you saw me as your property, a thing, a possession of yours. You showed me no respect; you humiliated me, erased my identity. You couldn’t handle a rejection. You were a bastard!

I hardly have words left. No, I doI find them, and they pour out like a raging river: I didn’t consider you a man; you were a beast!

That was not love. It was hate, violence, power, dominance, control. It was all the worst that can be done to a woman.

You are the cause; I am the effect. It was you who threw me into that hell, you who kept me submerged in that darkness, time and again. That night, on life’s chessboard, you chose to knock down both towers, and we both fell.

You devastated me inside, taking away my self-esteem, my privacy, my joy, my time, my intimacy, my security, my identity, my very voice. In the early days, I could hardly speak. When I started to do so, I stuttered… I couldn’t master the words to express the violence you inflicted upon me. I had to struggle and relearn how to look at and accept my body. It felt so violated, dirty, that I didn’t want it anymore. I wanted to forget it… like you might with a nightmare. You can’t give me back the life I had before that night. It’s embarrassing how fragile and delicate I still feel. I move through my new life like a child learning to walk alone, without an adult as my safe harbor. You have no idea how hard I have worked to piece together the parts of myself that shattered that night. It felt like living in a cage, with the invisible bars tattooed on my skin, and most of all in my emotions, in that part deep within me where I could no longer find comfort and peace.

There are times when I don’t want to be touched. I want to tell you that the damage was done primarily to me. You should have never made me fight so long to prove something so evident from the very beginning: I am the victim; you are the guilty!

What happened that night cannot be erased. However, we both have a choice: we can allow it to destroy us, or we can confront it. I have accepted the pain; you accept the punishment. In a sense, we cannot save ourselves alone. I want to tell you that, aside from ourselves, it is always the other who can save or destroy us. You tried to annihilate me, to objectify me, stripping me of my identity. Those who listened to me with interest, affection, and empathy restored my dimension as a human subject.

There have been times when I felt so vulnerable that I was destroyed by trauma, but over time I became resilient enough to overcome it and regenerate.

I walk away from the courthouse with my head held high, aware of my strength and resilience. My voice was firm, my words clear and unequivocal. I’m rebuilding my life, and I won’t let my past define my future.

Excerpt from the novel ‘Twenty-Four Carats’

Short Biography 

Ada Rizzo: was born in Sicily (Italy) in 1960.

Her life is built on solid roots and traditional values. Optimistic, cheerful, curious, and creative, she is interested in art and psychology. She loves to cook and adores music. After a thirty-year career at IBM Italy, she decided to reinvent herself. For several years now, she has been a Life Counselor with a humanistic-relational approach and a Facilitator in Mindfulness. 

In 2021, she published her first novel with a strong autobiographical tone titled “Volevo il tacco dodici?”, which received an honorary mention at the intercontinental literary award “Le Nove Muse.” 

She wrote the introduction to the poetry collection “Il Rumore dell’acqua” by Italian poet Andrea Ruiu. 

In 2022, she published her second novel “Iris Ali di Vetro,” which addresses the delicate topic of eating disorders (ED). 

In 2023, she published her third novel “Novanta battiti al minuto”, a true story that tackles the sensitive issue of heart transplantation, for which she received the Jury Prize at the International Literary Art Award Cygnus Aureus 2024. 

In 2024, he published “Ventiquattro Carati,” which addresses the issue of gender violence; a work that was awarded the International Literary Art Prize La Via dei Libri, the International Lord Byron Prize 2024, the International Literary Art Prize – to say no to violence against women – Il Canto di Dafne 2024, and the National Argentario Prize 2024 & Caravaggio.

Due to the subjects covered in her books, the author has received several recognitions, including the “International Award for Peace and Human Rights Defense Italy 2023” , the “Civic Merit Award for Solidarity and Inclusion of People with Disabilities 2023”, “Solidarity Award for Art and Civic Engagement 2024”, “Reconocimiento Internacional Mujer Destacada 2024” for her dedication to art, culture, peace, and social justice in the world. 

In 2024 she participated in the international cultural project for peace and the defense of human rights, from which the anthology “Art without Borders” was born, a poetic collection that brings together 36 international poets and artists. Her piece “Nel silenzio del mondo” is part of this anthology.

She will participe as a co-author in the International Cultural Project ComPar Poesia 2025, which involves 350 women writers from 5 continents to give voice to women and celebrate their artistic and cultural contribution to the world. Her poems on gender-based violence, “A Light in the Darkness” and “Women,” have been translated into English, Spanish, Arabic, and Bengali, and included in various literary journals and international poetry anthologies, such as “Alessandria Today”, “Atunis Galaxy Poetry,” “Life,” “Contemporary Italian Poetry,” “Our Poetry Archive,” “European Poetry,” “Sindh Courier,” “Saubarna,” “Whispers across Languages,” “Raven Cage,” and the “USA Humanist Anthology.” In America, she was honored with the “International Literature Language Journal” recognition.

Life has taken her everywhere, Love has brought her home.