Aldo Moresi (10.01.1933-17.10.2015)
Aldo
Moresi
was
born
in
Certara,
in
the
upper
Valcolla.
He
lived
in
Bellinzona.
He
had
attended
the
Magistral
School
and
the
Ecole
Supérieure
in
Neuchâtel.
He
had
also
attended
courses
in
Italy
in
the
fields
of
literature
and
art
criticism.
For
several
years,
he
had
been
a
state
official.
And
later,
he
was
secretary
of
the
Natural
Beauties
Commission
for
the
protection
of
the
environment.
He
collaborated
with
the
Ticino
and
Italian
press
with
articles
on
current
affairs
and
art,
as
well
as
with
cultural
magazines.
For
his
activities
in
the
field
of
culture,
he
received
important
awards
in
the
1980s.
In
Stresa,
he
was awarded the 'Penna d'oro' prize. He was a member of the Swiss Italian Writers' Association and the Pen Club.
"I
see
the
village
school
again,
the
serene
faces
of
my
classmates,
the
paternal
gesture
of
the
good
teacher
and
it
seems
to
me,
on
certain
evenings,
that
I
can
hear
their
voices
again.
Time
has
now
erased
those
moments,
but
the
heart
remains
to
remember.
I
am
certain,
as
Roman
Rolland
said,
that
happiness lies in knowing one's limits and loving them"
Il tuo amato paese
"I
wanted
to
write
these
lyrics
as
a
tribute
to
all
those
who
still
believe
in
the
beautiful
and
authentic
things
in
life.
I
gave
the
book
the
title
'SONG
OF
SEASONS'
because
I
feel
linked
to
my
land,
to
my
countryside.
Thus
were
born
the
stories
of
sunrises,
of
sunsets,
of
unforgettable
moments
spent
in
my
village,
lived
in
direct
contact
with
nature.
We
live
in
the
time
of
disamour.
The
excessive
materialisation
of
life
leads
us,
day
after
day,
to
our
dehumanisation.
That
is
why
it
is
essential
to
rediscover
our
true
identity,
recovering
our
ancient
values,
our
traditions,
in
order
to
continue
living
and
hoping.
Pier
Paolo
Pasolini,
in
a
splendid
page
on
fireflies,
wrote:
'As
for
me,
let
it
be
clear,
I
would
give
the
whole
of
Montedison
for
a
firefly'1.
This
means
that
each
of
us
needs
poetry,
that
irrepressible
voice
that
is
part
of
our
way
of
being
and
feeling.
I
remember
springs
of
light,
of
summer,
of
ripe
hay:
of
those
poetic
autumns
and
winters
full
of
silence
and
snow.
I
remember
in
particular
my
mother,
her
goodness,
her
smile.
My
father
with
others
from
Vallerano
emigrated
to
North
America
at
a
very
young
age.
He
returned
home
in
early
summer.
He
died
in
Chicago
several
years
ago.
Uncle
Onorato
at
that
time,
that
is,
before
the
1950s,
had
been
elected
mayor
of
Certara
-
in
the
upper
Valcolla
-
a
position
he
held
for
over
thirty
years,
with
great dignity. With my sister, brother, and other family members, I spent all the seasons up there.".