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    • The dreaming machine – issue number 7
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    • The dreaming machine n 7
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The Dreaming Machine

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  • Poetry
    Like a shadow on an expanse of water –  Five Russian Nature and Philosophical Poems from “Natura d’altri mondi” (Giraldi 2020), ed. by Vasily Biserov

    Like a shadow on an expanse of water – Five Russian Nature and Philosophical Poems from “Natura d’altri mondi” (Giraldi 2020), ed. by Vasily Biserov

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. Part II by Encyclopedic Poetry School

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. Part II by Encyclopedic Poetry School

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. PART I, by  Encyclopedic Poetry School

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. PART I, by Encyclopedic Poetry School

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    On the tip of her voice a library alive – Six Poems by Gonca Özmen, trans. from Turkish by Neil P. Doherty

    I have gone too far inside a dream – Poems by Animikh Patra for Villa Romana

    I have gone too far inside a dream – Poems by Animikh Patra for Villa Romana

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Three poems from Julio Monteiro Martin’s “La grazia di casa mia”, translated by Don Stang and Helen Wickes

  • Fiction
    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    from The Widows Series – “Claude”, “Cargo”, “Etc.” – Three Unpublished Short-Stories by Lynne Knight

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    I Want to Be Loved, a New Story by Mia Funk

    Man Ray’s Lips, a new story by Mia Funk

    Man Ray’s Lips, a new story by Mia Funk

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    A Child of Snow, a new story by Mia Funk

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    The Vulture- by Hasan Azizul Huq, trans. by Bhaskar Chattopadhyay

    “War and Peace”, Short Story by Mario Benedetti, with Introduction by Clark Bouwman

    “War and Peace”, Short Story by Mario Benedetti, with Introduction by Clark Bouwman

    “Sofía, qué soñaste?” – Vignette from Sonia Gutiérrez’s “Dreaming with Mariposas”

    “Sofía, qué soñaste?” – Vignette from Sonia Gutiérrez’s “Dreaming with Mariposas”

    DIARY OF A DANCING DREAMER IN THE STREETS OF BERLIN – Giulia Marchetti

    DIARY OF A DANCING DREAMER IN THE STREETS OF BERLIN – Giulia Marchetti

    WAITING FOR THE DARK, by Mia Funk

    WAITING FOR THE DARK, by Mia Funk

  • Non Fiction
    Brigada Dignidad: A Health Team Healing the Wounded by the Police in Santiago, Chile – Ximena Soza

    Brigada Dignidad: A Health Team Healing the Wounded by the Police in Santiago, Chile – Ximena Soza

    Time to Transition: Essay by Clarissa Clò,  Image and Document Galleries from the Grassroots Movements, by Barbara Ofosu-Soumah and Marina Romani

    Time to Transition: Essay by Clarissa Clò, Image and Document Galleries from the Grassroots Movements, by Barbara Ofosu-Soumah and Marina Romani

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    COMEDY AND CHILDHOOD. A conversation between Dario Fo and Walter Valeri

    All About EY – Musings about Literature, the Short Story and the Current State of Literary Affairs –  by Shajil Anthru

    All About EY – Musings about Literature, the Short Story and the Current State of Literary Affairs – by Shajil Anthru

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    People Die, Not From Old Age or War or Disease – But from Disappointment, by séamas carraher

  • Interviews & reviews
    Writing “Andolo, the Talented Albino” –  An Interview with Cameroonian Author Nsah Mala, by Pina Piccolo

    Writing “Andolo, the Talented Albino” – An Interview with Cameroonian Author Nsah Mala, by Pina Piccolo

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    “Pretending to Be Healthy” Gin Angri’s Photo- Essay from Como (Italy)

    Prima il Punto – Christine Maigne interviewed by Camilla Boemio

    Prima il Punto – Christine Maigne interviewed by Camilla Boemio

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Mia Funk Interviews Photographer Mark Seliger

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Photographer Marilyn Minter Interviewed by Mia Funk

    Mia Funk Interviews Novelist Viet Thanh Nguyen

    Mia Funk Interviews Novelist Viet Thanh Nguyen

  • Out of bounds
    • All
    • Fiction
    • Intersections
    • Interviews and reviews
    • Non fiction
    • Poetry
    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Here comes the voice – Poems by Antonio Merola

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Many Disoriented Small Migrations- Poems by Jean-Charles Vegliante

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Embraces on hold till a magic clock-strike twelve – Five Poems by Michael D. Amitin

    A GLOBAL ART PROJECT PROSPECTUS / DESCRIPTION / HISTORY: toward international collaborative activity, by Carl Heyward

    A GLOBAL ART PROJECT PROSPECTUS / DESCRIPTION / HISTORY: toward international collaborative activity, by Carl Heyward

    “Through the Fluid Mosaic” – Following Maica Gugolati though the Permeable Borders of the  Art Exhibition

    “Through the Fluid Mosaic” – Following Maica Gugolati though the Permeable Borders of the Art Exhibition

    Ghayath Almadhoun’s “Evian” Wins the 2020 Poetry Film Zebra Award

    Ghayath Almadhoun’s “Evian” Wins the 2020 Poetry Film Zebra Award

    “Ladri di denti” (Tooth Thieves) – Candice Whitney Reviews Djarah Kan’s Latest Short-Story Collection

    “Ladri di denti” (Tooth Thieves) – Candice Whitney Reviews Djarah Kan’s Latest Short-Story Collection

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    The thankless parables – Poems by Sudip Chattopadhyay

    Curator Hans-Ulrich Obrist Interviewed by Mia Funk

    Curator Hans-Ulrich Obrist Interviewed by Mia Funk

  • News
    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

    REFUGEE TALES July 3-5:  Register for a Walk In Solidarity with Refugees, Asylum Seekers and Detainees

    REFUGEE TALES July 3-5: Register for a Walk In Solidarity with Refugees, Asylum Seekers and Detainees

    IL BIANCO E IL NERO – LE PAROLE PER DIRLO, Conference Milan Sept. 7

    IL BIANCO E IL NERO – LE PAROLE PER DIRLO, Conference Milan Sept. 7

    OPEN POEM TO THE CURATORS OF THE 58th VENICE BIENNALE  FROM THE GHOSTS OF THAT RELIC YOU SHOULD NOT DARE CALL “OUR BOAT” (Pina Piccolo)

    OPEN POEM TO THE CURATORS OF THE 58th VENICE BIENNALE FROM THE GHOSTS OF THAT RELIC YOU SHOULD NOT DARE CALL “OUR BOAT” (Pina Piccolo)

    OPEN LETTER BY A GROUP OF BLACK ITALIAN WOMEN

    OPEN LETTER BY A GROUP OF BLACK ITALIAN WOMEN

    Crowdfunding for [DI]SCORDARE project

    Crowdfunding for [DI]SCORDARE project

  • Home
  • Poetry
    Like a shadow on an expanse of water –  Five Russian Nature and Philosophical Poems from “Natura d’altri mondi” (Giraldi 2020), ed. by Vasily Biserov

    Like a shadow on an expanse of water – Five Russian Nature and Philosophical Poems from “Natura d’altri mondi” (Giraldi 2020), ed. by Vasily Biserov

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. Part II by Encyclopedic Poetry School

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. Part II by Encyclopedic Poetry School

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. PART I, by  Encyclopedic Poetry School

    FEATURED PROJECT: From a Menu of Distinctively Flavored Tea Poems. PART I, by Encyclopedic Poetry School

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    On the tip of her voice a library alive – Six Poems by Gonca Özmen, trans. from Turkish by Neil P. Doherty

    I have gone too far inside a dream – Poems by Animikh Patra for Villa Romana

    I have gone too far inside a dream – Poems by Animikh Patra for Villa Romana

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Three poems from Julio Monteiro Martin’s “La grazia di casa mia”, translated by Don Stang and Helen Wickes

  • Fiction
    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    from The Widows Series – “Claude”, “Cargo”, “Etc.” – Three Unpublished Short-Stories by Lynne Knight

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    I Want to Be Loved, a New Story by Mia Funk

    Man Ray’s Lips, a new story by Mia Funk

    Man Ray’s Lips, a new story by Mia Funk

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    A Child of Snow, a new story by Mia Funk

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    The Vulture- by Hasan Azizul Huq, trans. by Bhaskar Chattopadhyay

    “War and Peace”, Short Story by Mario Benedetti, with Introduction by Clark Bouwman

    “War and Peace”, Short Story by Mario Benedetti, with Introduction by Clark Bouwman

    “Sofía, qué soñaste?” – Vignette from Sonia Gutiérrez’s “Dreaming with Mariposas”

    “Sofía, qué soñaste?” – Vignette from Sonia Gutiérrez’s “Dreaming with Mariposas”

    DIARY OF A DANCING DREAMER IN THE STREETS OF BERLIN – Giulia Marchetti

    DIARY OF A DANCING DREAMER IN THE STREETS OF BERLIN – Giulia Marchetti

    WAITING FOR THE DARK, by Mia Funk

    WAITING FOR THE DARK, by Mia Funk

  • Non Fiction
    Brigada Dignidad: A Health Team Healing the Wounded by the Police in Santiago, Chile – Ximena Soza

    Brigada Dignidad: A Health Team Healing the Wounded by the Police in Santiago, Chile – Ximena Soza

    Time to Transition: Essay by Clarissa Clò,  Image and Document Galleries from the Grassroots Movements, by Barbara Ofosu-Soumah and Marina Romani

    Time to Transition: Essay by Clarissa Clò, Image and Document Galleries from the Grassroots Movements, by Barbara Ofosu-Soumah and Marina Romani

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    COMEDY AND CHILDHOOD. A conversation between Dario Fo and Walter Valeri

    All About EY – Musings about Literature, the Short Story and the Current State of Literary Affairs –  by Shajil Anthru

    All About EY – Musings about Literature, the Short Story and the Current State of Literary Affairs – by Shajil Anthru

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    Days in Kolkata: a Photo Gallery by Sumana Mitra

    People Die, Not From Old Age or War or Disease – But from Disappointment, by séamas carraher

  • Interviews & reviews
    Writing “Andolo, the Talented Albino” –  An Interview with Cameroonian Author Nsah Mala, by Pina Piccolo

    Writing “Andolo, the Talented Albino” – An Interview with Cameroonian Author Nsah Mala, by Pina Piccolo

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    “Pretending to Be Healthy” Gin Angri’s Photo- Essay from Como (Italy)

    Prima il Punto – Christine Maigne interviewed by Camilla Boemio

    Prima il Punto – Christine Maigne interviewed by Camilla Boemio

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Mia Funk Interviews Photographer Mark Seliger

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Photographer Marilyn Minter Interviewed by Mia Funk

    Mia Funk Interviews Novelist Viet Thanh Nguyen

    Mia Funk Interviews Novelist Viet Thanh Nguyen

  • Out of bounds
    • All
    • Fiction
    • Intersections
    • Interviews and reviews
    • Non fiction
    • Poetry
    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Here comes the voice – Poems by Antonio Merola

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Many Disoriented Small Migrations- Poems by Jean-Charles Vegliante

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    Embraces on hold till a magic clock-strike twelve – Five Poems by Michael D. Amitin

    A GLOBAL ART PROJECT PROSPECTUS / DESCRIPTION / HISTORY: toward international collaborative activity, by Carl Heyward

    A GLOBAL ART PROJECT PROSPECTUS / DESCRIPTION / HISTORY: toward international collaborative activity, by Carl Heyward

    “Through the Fluid Mosaic” – Following Maica Gugolati though the Permeable Borders of the  Art Exhibition

    “Through the Fluid Mosaic” – Following Maica Gugolati though the Permeable Borders of the Art Exhibition

    Ghayath Almadhoun’s “Evian” Wins the 2020 Poetry Film Zebra Award

    Ghayath Almadhoun’s “Evian” Wins the 2020 Poetry Film Zebra Award

    “Ladri di denti” (Tooth Thieves) – Candice Whitney Reviews Djarah Kan’s Latest Short-Story Collection

    “Ladri di denti” (Tooth Thieves) – Candice Whitney Reviews Djarah Kan’s Latest Short-Story Collection

    POEMS FOR PEACE, by Hamid Barole Abdu

    The thankless parables – Poems by Sudip Chattopadhyay

    Curator Hans-Ulrich Obrist Interviewed by Mia Funk

    Curator Hans-Ulrich Obrist Interviewed by Mia Funk

  • News
    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

    REFUGEE TALES July 3-5:  Register for a Walk In Solidarity with Refugees, Asylum Seekers and Detainees

    REFUGEE TALES July 3-5: Register for a Walk In Solidarity with Refugees, Asylum Seekers and Detainees

    IL BIANCO E IL NERO – LE PAROLE PER DIRLO, Conference Milan Sept. 7

    IL BIANCO E IL NERO – LE PAROLE PER DIRLO, Conference Milan Sept. 7

    OPEN POEM TO THE CURATORS OF THE 58th VENICE BIENNALE  FROM THE GHOSTS OF THAT RELIC YOU SHOULD NOT DARE CALL “OUR BOAT” (Pina Piccolo)

    OPEN POEM TO THE CURATORS OF THE 58th VENICE BIENNALE FROM THE GHOSTS OF THAT RELIC YOU SHOULD NOT DARE CALL “OUR BOAT” (Pina Piccolo)

    OPEN LETTER BY A GROUP OF BLACK ITALIAN WOMEN

    OPEN LETTER BY A GROUP OF BLACK ITALIAN WOMEN

    Crowdfunding for [DI]SCORDARE project

    Crowdfunding for [DI]SCORDARE project

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Home Poetry

“From the Porthole” and other poems by Julio Monteiro Martins

"From the Porthole", "Photo Lux, May '48 " and Eve of Death",3 poems from "La grazia di casa mia by Julio Monteiro Martins, translated by helen Wickes and Don Stang

December 2, 2018
in Poetry, The dreaming machine n 3
Somewhere deep inside my soul,  a tiny bone shattered – Five poems from “The Bitter Herb”, by Raphael D’Abdon
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FROM THE PORTHOLE

 

To be in the world
as on a ship:
to attend to the wellbeing
of the passengers,
inspire their confidence
in the crew.
Attend to the engines,
which mutiny and rebel
just as people do,
and to the passengers,
who get jammed
just like machines.
Feel at home
in the kitchen,
in the laundry,
not allowing the wind
to shred the flag,
and if that happens
replace it immediately.
Then, once in a while,
glance outside,
through the porthole.

 

Because beyond the small world
inside the ship
is the larger world
swirling around it:
other ships,
distant torches
in the night,
fireflies that float by.
And also the currents, the winds,
clouds heavily charged,
pregnant with lightning,
and the terrors of the sea,
mountains of water
which suddenly rise
like a god staring at you.

 

The men
peel potatoes,
the women
tidy the beds
for the children
asleep in the life jackets;
every man and every woman who,
without the will or the courage
to look outside,
has forgotten
that they are aboard a ship,
that they are few in number —
every man and woman
will be protected.

 

They will have to be put ashore
in some port
before the storm.
They will have to learn to swim.
They will all have to get — good god! —
into the little lifeboat:
women and children
first.
But then,
who will paddle?
Who will carry them to safety
past so many horizons?
And if the drinking water
runs low
who will choose those — what bad luck! —
to be
thrown into the sea?

 

But for now
no one thinks of that.
One is at home
in the world,
even though onboard a ship:
warm the milk,
reattach the arm of the doll
and the wheel of the tractor,
sweetly kiss
the breasts of the beloved
and, innocently,
smile at her.

 

But the corner of the eye,
tactfully,
peers out of the porthole.
And the eye knows
that out there it is dark
even at midday.
A giant wave?
A passing cloud?

 

Inside one plays
in the darkness.
But outside
everything is movement.
First English language publication  in  Catamaran (Summer 2018).

 

DALL’OBLÒ

 

Essere al mondo
come in una barca:
badare al benessere
dei passeggeri,
infondere fiducia
nell’equipaggio.
Fare attenzione alle macchine
che si ammutinano
come uomini,
e agli uomini
che si inceppano
come macchine.
Essere di casa
in cucina,
in lavanderia,
non lasciare che il vento
laceri la bandiera,
e se accade
sostituirla subito.
E poi, ogni tanto,
dare un’occhiata fuori,
dall’oblò.

 

Perché oltre il piccolo mondo
dentro la barca
c’è il grande mondo
che gli gira intorno:
altre barche,
fiaccole lontane
dentro la notte,
lucciole che galleggiano.
E poi le correnti, i venti,
nuvole cariche
gravide di fulmini,
e i brividi del mare,
montagne d’acqua
che si levano all’improvviso
come un dio che si affaccia.

 

Gli uomini
pelano patate,
le donne
sistemano il letto
per i bambini
addormentati sui salvagenti,
ogni uomo e ogni donna
che senza voglia o coraggio
di guardare fuori
hanno scordato
di essere in barca,
e di essere in pochi,
ogni uomo e ogni donna
saranno protetti.

 

Dovranno essere sbarcati
in qualche porto,
prima della tempesta.
Dovranno imparare a nuotare.
Dovranno entrarci tutti – Dio mio!
nella piccola scialuppa:
donne e bambini
per primi.
Ma poi,
chi remerà?
Chi li porterà in salvo
dopo tanti orizzonti?
E se l’acqua da bere
scarseggerà,
chi sceglierà – che disgrazia!
quelli che verranno
buttati in mare?

 

Ma per ora
non ci si pensa.
Si sta al mondo
come a casa nostra,
anche se in barca:
riscaldare il latte,
riattaccare il braccio della bambola
e la ruota del trattore,
baciare dolcemente
i seni della donna amata
e sorriderle
con innocenza.

 

Ma la coda dell’occhio,
discretamente,
scruta oltre il portello.
E l’occhio sa
che fuori si fa buio
in pieno giorno.
Un’onda gigante?
Una nuvola di passaggio?

 

Dentro si gioca
all’ombra.
Ma fuori
tutto è movimento.


FOTO LUX, MAY ‘48

 

My mother has always remained seventeen,
as in the sepia photo
at the center of the ivory-colored
cardboard.
My mother has always remained seventeen.
I have grown older in her place.

 

She has never been so fully my mother,
so fully herself,
so beautiful, so essentially herself,
innocent,
as at seventeen,
long before I was born.
My silhouette today,
my shadow on the wall,
now makes me,
oddly,
the father of my mother
at seventeen.
The portrait of Dorian Gray
in her picture.

 

I must allow
time to ravage me
since vices and remorse
give meaning
to decay.
But something of my glow
will continue to shine
in sepia and ivory
in the eyes of the girl
who grew up so quickly.
And who has been found, and found herself, beautiful
in the breathless gaze of the photographer,
in the inverted image of the lens
which turned his camera
into a cage for this bird,
the most charming and sonorous
he had ever beheld.

 

My mother.
My mother at seventeen.

 

(And I,
who have never been seventeen….)
First English language publication in” Ghost Town Literary Magazine (Issue 10, 2018), http://ghosttownlitmag.com/juliomonteiromartins.

 

FOTO LUX, MAGGIO ’48

 

Mia madre ha sempre avuto diciassette anni
come nella foto color seppia
al centro del cartoncino
color avorio.
Mia madre ha sempre avuto diciassette anni.
Sono invecchiato io al posto suo.

 

Non è mai stata così tanto mia madre,
così se stessa,
tanto bella, essenziale,
incontaminata
come a diciassette anni,
molto prima che io nascessi.
La mia sagoma oggi,
l’ombra sulla parete,
ormai fa di me,
stranamente,
il padre di mia madre
a diciassette anni.
Il ritratto di Dorian Gray
del suo ritratto.

 

Devo permettere
che il tempo mi devasti
giacché vizi e rimorsi
danno un senso al decadimento.
Ma qualcosa del mio brillio
continuerà a brillare
in seppia e avorio
negli occhi della bambina
che è cresciuta tanto in fretta.
E che si è scoperta bella
nello sguardo ansante del fotografo,
nell’immagine invertita dalla lente
che ha fatto della macchina
la gabbia per l’uccello più grazioso
e canterino
che egli abbia mai sentito.

 

Mia madre.
Mia madre a diciassette anni.
(E io,
che non ho mai avuto diciassette anni…)

 


 

VIGILIA

 

An awkward question.
I’d have preferred not to ask it
and you not to hear it:
how come
two or three days
before our death
we abandon those we love,
while we experience
an irrepressible
vitality
before the end?

 

How should we understand
this inconceivable,
bizzarre
happiness?

 

If it’s true
that intuition
has already understood
the closeness of death,
how come
it produces only joy
and lightness,
instead of the natural
desperation?

 

Perhaps we anticipate
secretly
the relief
of all our suffering?
Three days before,
or two,
we are talkative
and awake:
we speak of everything,
nothing escapes us,
all except the main
subject.
We understand everything
without understanding anything.
We are frantically
obtuse.

 

Who knows,
maybe it’s that death,
like mosquitoes,
anaesthetizes the skin
before wounding it?
Isn’t amputation
itself
a surgery?
Veins sewn up,
arteries blocked,
and what no longer exists
is healed.

 

The suffering mother,
the father with a heart condition,
the crazy son who has decided not to continue living,
the blackened grandmother,
the little pale grandchild,
all of them happy
two or three days
before leaving us.
Familiars
now the opposite,
we’re pulled apart.

 

But tell me:
how is such an idiotic
change of scene
possible?
A trick of the unconscious?
Extreme denial?
Delusional optimism?
Surrender
and then setting fire
to one’s own refuge?

 

Unwitting
act of courage,
perhaps?
Gesture of shame
or of modesty?

 

When drama
reveals itself
as tragedy
the actor marvels
and mocks
the tide of destiny.
He now lacks
the strength
to keep from laughing.

 

There he is in the face

of the merciless,
the irrevocable,
the ruthless
need to be.
There he is in the face

of god absolute,
of the sovereign
king of the dead.

 

The living
are his acrobats,
his jesters.
They are happy
because they are grateful to him,
spared
one more time.

 

They have been
singled out
by the divine regard
and pursued,
and hunted.

 

They have lost everything.

 

They embrace their loved ones:
they have only
two or three days
to relax their grasp.
First English language publication in Ghost Town Literary Magazine (Issue 10, 2018), http://ghosttownlitmag.com/juliomonteiromartins.

 

VIGILIA

 

 

Una domanda scomoda.
Avrei preferito non farla
e voi non ascoltarla:
come mai
due o tre giorni
prima della loro morte
abbandoniamo
quelli che amiamo,
mentre ci viene
una irrefrenabile
vitalità
prima del crollo?

 

A cosa corrisponde
quest’inaudita,
bizzarra
felicità?

 

Se è vero
che l’intuizione
avrà già colto
la vicinanza della morte,
allora come mai
produce solo gioia
e leggerezza,
invece della naturale
disperazione?

 

Forse anticipiamo
segretamente
il sollievo
di tutte le sofferenze?
Tre giorni prima,
o due,
siamo loquaci
e svegli:
parliamo di tutto,
niente ci sfugge,
tranne l’argomento
principale.
Capiamo ogni cosa
senza capire niente.
Siamo istericamente
ottusi.

 

Chissà,
forse che la morte,
come le zanzare,
ci anestetizza la pelle
prima di pungerla?
Non è l’amputazione
anch’essa
una chirurgia?
Vene ricucite,
arterie bloccate,
ed è guarito
ciò che non c’è più.

 

La madre sofferente,
il padre cardiopatico,
il figlio matto che ha deciso
di non vivere più,
la nonna annerita,
il nipotino pallido,
tutti ci lasciano felici
due o tre giorni
prima di partire.
Sposi che siamo
in un rovescio
di matrimonio.

 

Ma ditemi:
com’è possibile
un tale cretino
colpo di scena?
Beffa dell’inconscio?
Estremo rifiuto?
Ottimismo auto illusorio?
Resa
e poi incendio
del proprio fortino?

 

Atto di coraggio
inconsapevole,
forse?
Gesto di vergogna
o di pudore?

 

Quando il dramma
si svela
in forma di tragedia
l’attore si meraviglia
e deride
la forza del destino.
Gli manca ora
la forza
per non ridere.

 

Eccolo di fronte
all’inclemente,
all’inappellabile,
allo spietato
dover essere.
Eccolo di fronte
al dio assoluto,
al sovrano
re dei morti.

 

I vivi
sono i suoi acrobati,
i suoi giullari.
Sono allegri
perché gli sono grati,
risparmiati
per una volta ancora..

 

Sono stati
individuati
dallo sguardo divino
e inseguiti,
e braccati.

 

Hanno perso tutto.

 

Abbracciano i loro amati:
hanno solo
due o tre giorni
per mollare la presa.

 

Julio Monteiro Martins (born in Brazil in 1955 and  died in Italy in 2014). Honorary Fellow in Writing” at the University of Iowa in the United States, he  taught creative writing at Goddard College in Vermont (1979-82), at the Oficina Literária Afrânio Coutinho, Rio de Janeiro (1982-91), at the Instituto Camões, Lisbona (1994) and at the Pontifícia Universidade Católica do Rio de Janeiro (1995). Between 1996 and 2000 he held courses in several Tuscan cities. He was among the founders of the Brazilian Partito Verde and of the environmentalist movement “Os Verdes”. As a defender of human rights in Rio de Janeiro, he guaranteed the safety of the meninos de rua. In his country of origin he has published nine books, including short story collections, novels and essay, among which are Torpalium (Ática, São Paulo 1977), Sabe quem dançou? (Codecri, Rio 1978), A oeste de nada (Civilização Brasileira, Rio 1981) and O espaço imaginário (Anima, Rio 1987). In Italy he has published Il percorso dell’idea (petits poèmes en prose, with original photos by Enzo Cei, Vivaldi & Baldecchi, Pontedera 1998), as well as the short stories collections Racconti italiani (Besa, Lecce 2000), La passione del vuoto (Besa, Lecce 2003), L’amore scritto (Besa, Lecce 2007). and the novel madrelingua (Besa, Lecce 2005) . His story L’irruzione was included in the anthology Non siamo in vendita – Voci contro il regime (edited by Stefania Scateni and Beppe Sebaste, with a forward by Furio Colombo, Arcana Libri / L’Unità, Roma 2002). His poetry collection La grazia di casa mia was published by Rediviva in 2014 and many of his  poems have been published in  various literary journals, including the international three-monthly “Pagine” and the online magazine “El Ghibli”, as well as in the anthologies I confini del verso. Poesia della migrazione in italiano (Florence, Le Lettere 2006) and A New Map: the Poetry of Migrant Writers in Italy (Los Angeles, Green Integer 2006). He was the creator of the event “Scrivere Oltre le Mura”. He lived in Tuscany  from the early 2000’s to 2014 where, besides teaching  Portuguese and literary translation at the University of Pisa, where he directed and taught the Fiction Workshop in the Masters program of the Scuola Sagarana in Lucca, and was editor in chief of the  online literary magazine, “Sagarana” . His posthumous publications in Italian  include La macchina sognante (2015), and the novel L’ultima pelle (2019).  Many of his poems have appeared in English translation  by Helen Wickes and Don Stang in a number of US print and online journals.

Tags: boatdeathDonald StangHelen WickesJulio Monteiro MartinsLa grazia di casa mialuciditymetaphorphotographyPoetrytimevision

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