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Earthquake
images
Friuli
1976
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A
page about Friuli earthquake in May 1976
The earthquake of May 6, 1976 marked a wound difficult to forget
for people who lived it but also for people who touched it lightly
or saw it passing tipping the wink as if it said: remember me,
may be sooner or later
On this occasion we want to remember
it in this way, by the images of Gianni Cogoi, living in Pozzuolo
del Friuli, a graphic designer by profession who, during those
days, wanted to shoot some features, some moments among the
numberless ones appeared in the newspapers, in the televisions
all over the world by means of his camera, and through the words
of Riccardo who many years later started studying that phenomenon,
which just touched him, becoming a seism-amateur of FESN.
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THREE-ACT VENZONE
by Riccardo Rossi
First act
The ancient way of life
It
was a simple village, but charged with its traditions, its cathedral
and walls, its mummies with their tired and sleeping faces arousing
mute fear, with their hidden look kids tried in vain to understand
in order to join their history.
It was the time of waiting, of things not changing but with
the rules of an ancient time dragging itself along wrapped in
the cloth of tiredness. Venzone looked at the mountain giving
up its role of mother then looked at the plane with its factories
growing wicked while making fun of its ancient way of life.
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Second act
The folded soul
The
"Orculąt", the deep spirit of nothing, came walking without
being called. At any step the night mingled with wine, with
noise, with blood and with the chaos certitudes.
The spirit of nothing met the ancient time and invited it to
their marriage, afterwards betrayed it and finally defeated
it.
Of the dreadful rage and the roused force nothing remained but
a folded soul.
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. . . . .
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Third act
The soul bends, the heart doesn't.
The
heart is far from the soul, the heart is steady in the rock,
the grey and hard one appearing through the look of Friulans.
From the mountain certitude, from the river movement, from the
sky hope.
And afterwards the hands, the ones of all, to drag them out,
to breed a new earthquake
How will we make the new Venzone?
We will make it the same!
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 . . . .
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NOT
TO FORGET
Pay
attention little boy, pay attention to the Orcoląt
It comes down from the mountains, like a mad it runs
During your meal it will knock on your door
Is there something for me too? Is the dish ready?
With its wicked and strong voice it will ask you.
Grasp your courage, let your mummy and daddy know
And never open. Let it strike
Let the door slam, the door tremble
Sing stronger than it, look for a good shelter, don't move away
And then run again, go back safe to your amusements.
But with your heart in your hand and a stone in your pocket
In order to shrink fear and not to forget. .
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 . . .
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