...and the winners are...
The prize giving ceremony for this year's poetry competition for schools was held last Thursday at the Keats-Shelley House. Julia Golding, british children's author, presented the prizes. The quality of entries was extremely high and we would like to congratulate all those who participated.
Here are the winning poems written in English:
5-9 years
First prize
Sophie Potin
age 7
Castelli International School
The Magic Box
In the box I will put
A xylophone going to have an x-ray
And a zebra with zero stripes in a zoo
And a yellow yo-yo dancing yesterday
In the box I will put
A statue running
And a purple lake
And a surfing dog
My box is made with crystals and diamonds
And fire on the top
And blue lightening in the corners
I shall fly in my box
And drink silly water
And arrive on a beach
Second Prize
Sophie De Oliveira
age 9
Britannia International School
The Magic Box
While visiting an old castle in France,
I found this old box in a corner.
It was big enough for me to fit inside,
But when I stepped inside it,
I shrank to the size of a mouse.
The box took me to another world,
Where everything was bigger than me.
Animals could talk,
And the plants had eyes to see!
There were things I had never seen before,
Like a house that could walk.
At one point I saw a giant rabbit,
He took me to the box.
And do you know where it took me?
It took me straight back home!
10-13 years
First prize
Caterina Piccolomini
age 12
St George’s British International School
Dear Oxygen
I wonder if the sun will rise even without you by my side,
If someday I’ll be able to see you,
If ever I will feel you.
But there’s that fear,
That fear of loss,
Every time I think about it,
I feel cold fingers curl themselves around my heart,
Trying to take you away,
Trying to kill me,
You’re my other half,
You are now part of me.
You make my story,
I don’t need much to make one,
I don’t have much,
But I have you.
I know that someday you’ll leave me,
Join another body,
Another life.
So tell me,
At least for now,
Will you continue being…
My Hero?
Second Prize
Alessandra Garber
age 11
Ambrit-Rome International School
Time Travel
I sit in my rocket preparing for flight,
trying to prepare my mind for a terrible fright.
I know this trip must not be fun,
the driver counts down three, two, one…
I get thrown to the back.
Everything I see is black.
The pressure makes my brain spin,
I feel dizzy and blood streaming up my skin.
Seeing the worm-hole makes me gasp!
The driver’s voice is a rasp.
As my rocket quickly dives,
I wonder what would happen to people’s lives.
The rocket starts rotating fast.
Will I come out in the future or in the past?
The rocket is getting too hot and starts shaking,
Will this be my death or my waking?
14-18 years
First prize
Bhavana Gupta
age 16
St Stephen’s School
Prickle
You say you like the prickly
feeling, around on your tongue,
after tasting a kiwi, the involuntary
shudder reflected in the oval silver of the spoon.
The pungent smell prickles your nose
awakening your senses, and
releasing a sea in your mouth.
Stretched out in the afternoon sun,
you delight in picking up a
green bulk, full of seeds
with no future.
You dig into it, curving around
with your spoon to get to the core.
That is what you do,
curve around,
to get to the core.
But curving around doesn’t always
obtain what you desire,
may that be the covering or the core.
Joint Second prize
Kezi Cheng
age 16
The Bronx High School of Science
How Spring Sang Me Her Song
Among the shots of Maplewood trees,
plum red from the wet tempers of spring,
a cream-skinned girl echoing in the woods
with a voice like molasses,
sticky through the air,
shuffles the plump curls of leaves
Echoes…
Her song found its chorus
beneath the overcast sky,
heavy with the weight of gray rain clouds,
tugs on the nest of feathered cuckoos,
hungry for the first drops of spring,
for kisses from a honeysuckle song.
Joint Second Prize
Lauren Javaly
age 16
The Bronx High School of Science
You are not welcome here
No on wants an Echo, really.
At least, no one deliberately asks for one.
No on wants to hear everything they’ve said
regurgitated (as it is diminished, hazy and a little delayed),
carried indefinitely by the wind,
and always certain to float lazily back at the worst possible times,
tell it as you might:
you are not welcome here.
Reader, I implore you to envision a life without Echoes!
It’d be easier, for one thing,
not to be haunted by a melancholy recitation
of all you’d wish couldn’t be repeated, repeated verbatim,
singing and resonating
of all you’ve done,
everywhere you’ve been,
the more shameful recollections,
the very ones that make you cringe and abruptly end your otherwise serene reverie.
They chant mockingly:
you are not welcome here!
These Echoes, you see, reader, take their nature from their more literal brethren:
echoes of a cave, or an empty room,
the very kind you can find in any deserted place,
the very kind that scold you ominously,
the very kind that envelop you eerily,
as if to tell you what you had already vaguely guessed:
you are not welcome here,
and your very presence is a desecration of timid silence!
In much the same way, Echoes are a reminder:
be circumspect, and traipse not so carelessly!
Live as though for everything you do you are compensated in full,
and always, always, always, there is a reverberation,
a recalcitrant whisper, escaped from all that you’ve desperately tried to hide:
an Echo.
Prize winning poems in Italian are:
5-9 years
First prize
Celeste Rosi
age 8
Britannia
International School
L’era glaciale
Ho fatto un sogno molto
speciale
mi sono trovata nell’era glaciale.
Pinguini, foche e
orsi polari
facevan la fila per un paio d’occhiali.
Erano
occhiali particolari
facevan vedere tutti i contrari.
La neve era
verde colore del prato,
il cielo era azzurro strato su strato.
I
pinguini eran gazzelle, le foche eran leoni,
gli orsi polari eran
tanto più buoni
la nube era il sole più caldo che mai,
che bello
quel sogno che ho già fatto ormai.
Second Prize
Veronica
Marcone
age 8
Britannia International School
Scrigno Magico
C’era
una volta un gran pirata,
trovò nello scrigno una bella fata.
Ha
navigato nei sette mari
E trova anche due grandi fari.
Trovò sulla
terra il cibo da mangiare
e la fata a pescare.
La fata gli
concede tre desideri
e il pirata disse: “vorrei una moglie di nome
Mary”.
10-13 years
First prize
Mariù De Lucia
age
11
Istituto Comprensivo Giovanni Falcone
Eroe
Davanti
alla casa di mia zia Rosalia,
nella foresta della Florida centrale
dove
prima di Colombo
cacciavano gli indiani Seminole,
regna una
quercia grandiosa.
una quercia che ha protetto gli indiani
tra i
suoi foltissimi rami
come una madre protegge i propri figli.
Una
Quercia che ha respinto gli invasori spagnoli
tra mille frecce
scagliate
contro il suo tronco maestoso.
“Oh quercia! Oh quercia!
Grattacielo
di legno
eroe intrepido
di età antiche ed età moderne.”
Una
quercia regna e regnerà ancora
nella foresta della Florida centrale
davanti
alla casa di mia zia Rosalia.
Second Prize
Alex Gavriloae
age
14
S. M. S Paolo Stefanelli
Il tuo viaggio
(a John Keats)
Una
vita scordata
In un viaggio senza fine
Un viaggio tra lunghe
agonie
Il tuo viaggio, una vita come
Un lungo addio
Il tuo
viaggio senza orizzonte
14-18 years
First prize
Tiziano
Imparato
age 18
Liceo Scientifico Isacco Newton
Potrei
Cercare Un Vostro Sorriso?
ai miei compagni
Il bisogno di vedere
centinaia di occhi
che mi vedono come uomo, ma io un uomo non
sembro.
Uomo vorrei sembrare, ma uomo non mi vedi.
Il bisogno mi
oscura
il buio mi viola il cuore.
Vedi il mio lamento uscire,
trapassare
le mie illusioni.
Il mondo ruota più in movimento
di quanto io
potrei vedere.
Violenti uomini mi liberano,
violano i bui, le
catene;
l’illusione del mio libero corpo
mi lega mani e piedi
obbligati
a disubbidire.
Obbligato a vedere
la bellezza che il mondo mi
vieta.
Troppi pensieri prendono posto in me,
non conosco i
sentimenti per fermarli.
Libere risate di liberi amici,
unica
porta per ospitare serenità dal mio corpo.
Second prize
Umberto
Luca Avvisati
age 17
Liceo Scientifico Leon Battista Alberti
Eco
I lampi intorno a me
Distruggono il nero cielo
In
lontananza l’eco
Di battaglia si sparge nelle notte
Il pianto di
un bambino, il latrato
Di un uomo affliggono il mio cuore
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