A Look at the Graffiti of Verona, Italy and its Surroundings

Poetry, an Editor, a Relic, Love Notes, Despair, a Request, Politics and Society, and Art

11 min readNov 6, 2022

As a Latin teacher, I would always ask my students why the Romans wrote on their walls. It would be boring daily stuff, like “Marcus likes Julia,” or “I baked bread today Oct. 2,” or “Ampliatus is a thief.” Basically, the people who wrote on walls were the ones who were not rich and famous, who couldn’t publish books. They lacked an authorial voice. Graffiti, therefore, is how we have learned much of what we know about women, slaves, children, and the poorer citizens of Rome. So, I always stressed this significance to my students.

That all aside, when I first saw how much graffiti there was in Italy, I was surprised at how messy so many walls looked, littered with graffiti… not just relegated to subway cars or bridge underpasses as in the US. I soon uncovered, however, a richness of culture as I learned to read Italian.

“Don’t call the police — our neighborhood sticks together”

While a lot of the graffiti in the US is basically “tagging”, like “so-and-so was here” or leaving your style or your symbol (which Italy definitely has too), much of Italian graffiti has a more personal feel, like they’re trying to communicate with you.

I marked off a few types of graffiti you might come across, which follow below (translations usually in the photo captions).

Poetry

The first type: poetry. We don’t really have so much of this type in the US. Again, at first it felt like, “come on, why do you have to vandalize walls all over town?” but then I got to enjoying trying to read them. Maybe it’s just that it’s in Italian that it feels more poetic to me, but I liked hearing the thoughts of a stranger, seeing poetry and art instead of a basic gray wall.

At Mantova — “And when the night comes / and I lay myself down alone / the mind leaves and goes on a stroll”

This one feels like a dream sequence to me. It has the peacefulness of laying down quiet, and then drifting, floating off, like in the movies where the body floats up into the clouds and goes off on some adventure. It turns out it’s actually the lyrics to the song “La Notte” by Arisa. If you’re wondering what she’s saying in the song — yes, it is as sentimental/sad as the sepia camerawork and the plodding piano chords suggest.

Also, I don’t know if I did this on purpose but in the top right of the picture there’s a sign telling you the area is monitored by cameras, and that vandalism is prohibited. Just the little things that amuse me!

At Verona — “And what if I had called her?

I think I collected this photo before understanding exactly what this said. The grammar leaves the subject a little uncertain, but I got it was talking about a regret. Though the language and people were new to me, the feeling was familiar.

A common chorus I heard throughout my time there is that the Veronese are more reserved. This is, of course, only compared to the stereotypically forward Italians of the south. So, maybe this guy felt like he was too shy, that he lost his shot. Hey, it’s not too late, buddy — call her!

At Verona, near Vescovo city gate — “You might as well attempt it anyway”

This one also, I felt like I could appreciate it even if I didn’t really know how to translate it. I eventually translated it with the help of context.reverso.net. Tanto vale, I thought was like “For what it’s worth” or maybe “It’s all good”… but, “You might as well” — eh, close enough.

Forgetting about the translation, I had the idea of it — go ahead and throw yourself at what you want, even if it will be difficult. In a new city, with a new language, I felt like this one spoke to me.

At Grottammare, a beach town in central Italy where my great grandfather grew up — “Leave the world better than you found it”

This quote is super common. And this bench, being all painted up with flowers and this lovely message… safe to say this bench has been left better than how it was found.

An Editor

At Verona, in Venice Neighborhood — “Crack is a Kill(er)” (loosely translated)

This piece of graffiti is my favorite. Haha, it isn’t really, but it is special to this language learner. Even though tons of things I came across were still foreign to me, I was staring at this and… it felt like it was all starting to click. Sure, I had to look up “crack” and “thief,” but those are just words. It was that suffix, “-tore,” that really got me. It means, “-er,” as in “work-er” or “sing-er.”

So, someone scribbles, “Crack = steal,” and someone else comes by later with a spray can to correct the grammar of the person condemning the sins of crack. “Crack = steal-er” he added to be grammatically correct (“Crack = thief”). Or translated more loosely, “Crack is a kill(er).”

A Relic

On Corso Cavour, near Porta Borsari, the old Roman gatehouse

This piece of graffiti (because I mean, it is!) is probably the oldest in Verona that still endures. It is about a palio, a horse race, and something about argento, silver, maybe some sort of an award. It had been explained to me, but currently it escapes me.

As an extra note — from the Latin derivation, this is truly graffiti because it is scratched, as early writing on clay, or wax tablets, was done. (Fun trivia that “carve” and “graffiti” are related! Early gerbh → graph → graffio through Greek/Latin, and gerbh → kerben → carve through German).

Dipinti (“depict”, “picture”, “paint”) are technically messages that were drawn onto a surface, like… spray paint.

Gli Amatori

“Ci sono scrittori ovunque…” a passing tourist said while I was people-watching on the bridge. There are scribblers everywhere…

This was on the ponte castlevecchio, the bridge through the old castle. It’s a beautiful old brick structure that has protected the walled city from invaders over the centuries. Now it is a monument to both the castle as well as thousands of idle scribblings from teenagers and other love-sick philosophers. In one sense, it’s an unfortunate disgrace to a historical monument… but in another, it kind of makes sense. But that’s another topic.

“i single vivono meglio” — “Singles live better,” signed by… two people?

“Wrap your legs around me… you’re my Bohême” (an eclectic artist type, a girl in this case).

I love the little “Why Not?” in the corner. A less-reckless YOLO, I think

Took me forever to get, “Ema 6 mitica!” Saying it out loud, it finally made sense. “sei” is both the number 6, and “you are”. (That was weird for me for a minute, then I remembered in English people write “this is 4 u”… same idea.) Ema, you are mythical!”

This next one is from a quiet street in Veronetta, a college- and immigrant-focused hot spot of Verona life. Again, I find myself wondering if I saw this scribbled in English if it would still be so fascinating and attractive to me.

Maybe everything is just more romantic in Italian. Maybe it’s that my second language is more magical to me, like some hidden tongue, a secret code of sorts. Maybe it’s a little of both. I don’t know… thoughts?

“e anche se non vuoi che lo dica… ti amo.”

“and even if you don’t want me to say it… I love you.”

Despair

Here, I struggled a bit with the handwriting. Then, the “x” confused me. I remembered that I’d seen it in Italian texting — it means “per”, or “for”, and is used in multiplication, like how “2 x 4” we might say “2 by 4,” they say “for” instead of “by”.

Then there’s the future tense, and then an expression “passerai a trovare” that I only kind of got. But I made it the whole way through… and then, it hits me what I just read.

Tonight I’m going to sleep in a hospital bed, just to see if you’ll come try and find me.

Oh… shit.

A Request

I’ll admit that this sign is not exactly a piece of graffiti… but it fits the subject. A resident of this historic hill town is leaving a note for whoever would write on their wall.

at Grottammare, in the historic hill town overlooking the sea

I love that someone put their full self into this request not to spoil this scenic overlook of their lovely ancient hill town.

You all are beseeched that you not display your assholery, slinging it here in the name of love, defacing that which has endured for centuries… well, before the arrival of a few savages.

Politics and Society

It would be another article entirely to go into the anti-fascist messages that are everywhere… in an Italy that was not too long ago Mussolini’s. Let’s just say that there are a lot of people who don’t have fond memories of that time and would not like to relieve the past.

(Please remember that Italy’s political climate is not identical to the United States’, and that fascism and antifa have different roots and stories than the ones you might be familiar with).

at Padua… though it could be any city in Italy, especially near a district inhabited by the young, urbane, immigrants, college students, or anyone else with a progressive mind.

At Bologna: not only a college town but the first college town in the world.

“odia” or “hate” here is in the imperative, asking people to have distain for unhealthy ideas of masculinity. I love the mix of English and Spanish words here… “capitalism” and “macho” being tenets of America and Spain that have gone global.

Also at Bologna — “The empty houses will be occupied (also, the UniCredit!”)

That add-on at the bottom gets me every time — “the banks are also guilty.” But what does it mean, “the empty houses”? Is it referring to those being worked as an Airbnb, and thereby not available for citizens to rent? (That became such a problem in Barcelona that short-term rentals were banned). Is it about the celebrity vacation homes? (I heard Madonna and Leo DiCaprio had bought apartments overlooking Verona’s famous Piazza Erbe).

Is it just about housing being too expensive in general? At any rate, I think I get it — an empty house means an extra person who goes homeless.

A Verona, near a train station — “Neither with Putin, nor with Biden. War… but to the masters.”

This is another one I can’t quite read. Politics and society requires a higher sense of nuance, to be sure. I think it says that war isn’t right, whether it’s Putin or Biden calling the shots. And that the war should be against the political elites. Not positive, but I think that’s close.

At Verona, in Veronetta, sort of near the college, near the river.

This seems to me to be the Italian motto born from the #metoo movement. “Io ti credo,” I believe you. A friend of mine worked with a human rights group in the city that helped assaulted women get assistance, even if the hospital wouldn’t give them a rape kit, if the police wouldn’t press charges, if no one else believed them.

Obviously it’s not at all that I thought crime was unique to my country… but this message was a sad reminder to me that every society across the world has to deal with the same violence, the same injustices.

At Verona, near Porta Leone, in front of the UniEuro store

Another example of a social issue that was, in some form, everywhere over the past two years — the struggle to keep people from getting sick vs. keeping daily life open. It is worth noting that Veneto here and the neighboring province of Lombardy were the first major casualties of the coronavirus… the first packed hospitals, the first inundated morgues.

Italy’s strict adherence to vaccinations, testing, and a “Green Pass” — a bill of good health — was informed by this social trauma. Still, there were many who protested the infringement on their daily lives. Well, we all know some version of that story.

Merchants, you’re only hurting yourselves* with the Green Pass… we’re shopping online now. Rise up, sheep!

*it is worth noting that business risked being shut down by the government if they did not ask to see everyone’s health pass… so this is a bit of displaced anger, shouting at walls.

Art

In the hills of Avesa, along the outskirts of Verona. Nothing to say here except I like that guy 😀

There’s a few of these scattered throughout the city, painted on electrical boxes

When I lived in Florence for a month, I and the other students loved these prints. They’re made by an anonymous artist called “Blub” who lived in Florence. They got that name because they made prints of figures from famous paintings as if they were under water (this one, Girl with a Pearl Earing). This print is old and faded, but it was cool to see it was still up in Venice!

Caprese, the pride of Italy — this, painted overtop of an extremist right group with ties to fascism that never got a single seat in parliament.

I had heard about this artist in my Italian classes from one of our teachers, and again from a friend. The artist is named Cibo (the reason why, below). I don’t think I saw any of his graffiti in person… I heard that he paints in nearby villages and further parts of Verona. A friend of mine reminded me of him and I agreed that he should be included here.

So, this picture is from an article in Quartz, all the way across the Atlantic… he’s that famous. Cibo (pronounced chee-bo) fights against fascism, hate, extremism, with a piece of culture that unites us all — food! The reason why he covers up fascist symbols with food, or cibo in Italian, is because the culture of food belongs to us all.

Every time vandals mess up his work, Cibo covers it with another ingredient. This way, his graffiti becomes a demonstration piece, a living work of resistance. Read more about Cibo here.

So that was a brief look at some of the graffiti I encountered at Verona and its surroundings. The best part of travel is rarely the museums or cathedrals, but rather the exploration of a new culture. It is the food, the architecture, the people, and just walking the streets and learning more about a new place. In Italy, the walls can talk. As I learned Italian during my stay, I became able to listen.

I hope you enjoyed seeing, and hearing, some of this culture I discovered in the streets of Verona. This article was first written in (not yet fluent) Italian, so if you’re so inclined you can try reading that one as well — though neither is a direct translation (to avoid forcing the wrong grammar/vocabulary). Thanks for reading — grazie per avermi letto!