Carlo Rovello’s poetry is woven from gentle words: at times, it surprises with its lunar melancholy, and envelops the reader in a timeless dimension, where one sinks into a state of being wrapped in memory and a sense of loss. *Le Case sparse* (The Scattered Houses), the title of the collection, evokes the idea of inhabiting a land where one pays the price for one’s own presence, like a root in search of a plant, yet it is the absence of the flower that prevails (Ivan Fedeli).