Bianca come la neve

Patrizia Poli
4 min readNov 14, 2022

An excerpt from “Bianca come la neve ” by Patrizia Poli

“White as snow” my father said, “so I want this daughter of desire.”
My mother sewed by the window, she pricked herself, drops of blood wet the cold pillow on the windowsill. She then turned to my father, put down her work, held out that diaphanous hand that already foreshadowed her death: “Yes, white, like snow” she said with her soft smile, “but also red, like blood. She will be ours, she will be part of you and me, she will be the imprint of our love.”
I was born with clear skin, blue veins of noble blood and red lips.
The women who witnessed the birth smiled, “beautiful,” they said, “this baby.”
My mother put in my hands the rosary that Father Bernardu had given her, she made the sign of the cross on my forehead. “May God protect you, daughter of our love.”

Radu Florescu speaking.

It was when she got pricked and I turned around. I saw the blood on the windowsill. Three drops that stood out on the white snow, on the black of ebony. White as snow, black as ebony, more beautiful than your mother, more beautiful than all, more desirable and desired, Bianca, my daughter.

My mother took me with her on her visits to the village. We went in, house by house, she always beautiful and elegant, bending her head to cross the poor thresholds. She coughed a little and her step was tired. I didn’t care, because “beautiful girl”, people said to me, “eyes…



Patrizia Poli

Patrizia Poli was born in Livorno in 1961. Writer of fiction and blogger, she published many novels.