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    • The dreaming machine – issue number 7
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 6
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 5
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 4
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 3
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 2
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 1
  • THE DREAMING MACHINE
    • The dreaming machine n 7
    • The dreaming machine n 6
    • The dreaming machine n 5
    • The dreaming machine n 4
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    • The dreaming machine n 2
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The Dreaming Machine

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  • Poetry
    In Memoriam Lawrence Ferlinghetti – Three poems: Pity the Nation, Cries of Animals Dying, The History of the Airplane

    In Memoriam Lawrence Ferlinghetti – Three poems: Pity the Nation, Cries of Animals Dying, The History of the Airplane

    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

  • 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 – Three Unpublished Short-Stories by Lynne Knight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
    In Memoriam Lawrence Ferlinghetti – Three poems: Pity the Nation, Cries of Animals Dying, The History of the Airplane

    In Memoriam Lawrence Ferlinghetti – Three poems: Pity the Nation, Cries of Animals Dying, The History of the Airplane

    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

  • 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 Out of bounds

TO THE SOUTH OF THINGS – Pasqualino Bongiovanni

November 28, 2017
in Out of bounds, Poetry, The dreaming machine n 1
THE POET IN PRISON: CRACKS IN THE SKIN – Ashraf Fayadh
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Poems translated by Helen Wickes and Donald Stang, based on Giuseppe Villella’s original  translation for the Canadian edition of To the South of Things – A sud delle cose (bilingual edition) – Institute of Italian Studies Lakehead University – Thunder Bay (Ontario – Canada), 2013.

 

 

BUDS FOR GRAFTING

 

What can be seen from outside

is only one

of our innumerable lives,

only one

of our cursed jobs.

 

As in some letters

begun with many mistakes,

from all our previous lives

we have torn out the pages

tossing them who knows where.

 

We have thousands of lives

that no one sees,

hidden in the bones,

in the hands callused by the hoe

and the pickaxes,

in the backs bent over the roofs

of thousands of houses

that will never

be ours.

 

We have silent lives

full of dignity,

that no one has ever heard about.

 

We have been merchants,

chemists and engineers,

farmers, smiths,

carpenters and nurses.

 

And one of us

was even a teacher

who taught children

to read fairy tales

and write their own names,

names which many now

no longer know how to pronounce.

 

Ours

is a recycled life,

like paper, glass,

and scrap iron.

 

Our clothes

smell of bitter tobacco,

of quicklime and cement;

they smell of sweat.

 

We are the rotten smell

on the bus,

we are the teeth

missing from a smile,

the wrong shirts

over woolen pants.

 

We are the flesh of the cargo,

the guts in the hold.

We are the blackness

of a night without stars,

fenced-in sheep

often kept under watch,

with jail if it comes to it.

We are abandoned cars

used as houses.

 

We are the crime news,

the scapegoat:

for everyone who makes a mistake,

thousands accuse us;

for the many taken advantage of,

and who work,

no one pardons us.

 

Therefore,

of our most recent life

we have once again

torn out the page

tossing it who knows where,

but for all our

future lives

we will again have hope

and the wish to laugh

and dance

and drink.

We will also have

the wish to write

and maybe one day,

perhaps on the last page,

 

we will even succeed

in doing it well.

 

***

 

And you,

as it is written,

don’t upset yourself

about the single tree

that the lightning strikes and uproots

with a huge racket,

but be pleased

instead

for all these other trees

in the woods,

that silently

continue to grow

and to make one, a hundred,

a thousand other lives.

Because today

we are the buds for grafting,

able to give good fruit,

even with other roots,

and on other branches.

 

 

LE GEMME DA INNESTO
Quella che da fuori si vede

è soltanto una

delle nostre innumerevoli vite,

soltanto uno

dei nostri maledetti mestieri.

 

Come per delle lettere

iniziate con molti errori,

di tutte le vite precedenti

ne abbiamo strappato le pagine

buttandole chissà dove.

 

Abbiamo migliaia di vite

che nessuno vede

nascoste nelle ossa,

nelle mani callose di zappa

e di piccone,

nelle schiene curve sopra i tetti

di migliaia di case

che mai saranno

nostre.

 

Abbiamo vite silenti

cariche di dignità

che nessuno ha mai ascoltato.

 

Siamo stati commercianti,

chimici e ingegneri,

contadini, fabbri,

falegnami e infermieri.

 

E qualcuno di noi

era perfino un maestro

che insegnava ai bambini

a leggere fiabe

e a scrivere il proprio nome,

quello che molti ora

non sanno più pronunciare.

 

La nostra

è vita riciclata,

come la carta, il vetro,

il ferro da buttare.

 

I nostri indumenti

sanno di tabacco amaro,

di calce e di cemento,

di sudore sanno.

 

Siamo l’odore guasto

sugli autobus,

siamo i denti mancanti

di un sorriso,

le camicie sbagliate

su pantaloni di lana.

 

Siamo carne da bastimento,

viscere di stiva.

Siamo il nero

di una notte senza stelle,

pecore da recinto,

sorvegliati spesso

al limite con la galera.

Siamo vagoni abbandonati

adibiti a case.

 

Siamo la cronaca nera

il capro espiatorio:

per qualcuno che sbaglia

migliaia ci accusano,

per tanti sfruttati

che lavorano

nessuno ci assolve.

 

Così,

della vita più recente

ne abbiamo nuovamente

strappato la pagina

buttandola chissà dove,

ma per tutte le nostre

vite future

avremo ancora speranza,

e voglia di ridere

e ballare

e bere.

Avremo ancora

voglia di scrivere

e magari un giorno,

forse sull’ultima pagina,

 

riusciremo

a farlo anche bene.

 

***

 

E voi,

come è scritto,

non lasciatevi turbare,

dal solo albero

che il fulmine abbatte e sradica

con grande frastuono,

ma compiacetevi,

invece,

per tutti quegli altri alberi

che nel bosco,

silenziosamente,

continuano a crescere

e a fare una, cento,

e mille altre vite.

Perché noi oggi

siamo gemme da innesto

capaci di dare buoni frutti

anche con altre radici

e su altri rami.

 

 

 

UNOCUMENTED

 

The laces

that tighten the shoes

get snarled,

and yielding,

along with them,

is that tenacious will

that always,

like a deep-set boulder,

has tied me to the earth.

 

My steps slacken

and I can’t find work

nor an address

nor a house.

 

I live

undocumented

but I live,

without a number

or a name,

I flee the lists,

the voices, the glances,

curious to know

or classify.

 

The laces

of my shoes

get snarled

and it little matters

(I’ll go back to walking

barefoot

as I did in childhood

on the streets

of my country);

but they loosen,

those strings

that keep a whole life

on its feet,

and I die,

a thousand times a day,

 

at every step

undocumented

I die.

 

 

CLANDESTINO
Si smagliano

i lacci

che stringono

le scarpe,

e cede

insieme a loro

quella volontà ostinata

che da sempre,

come roccia profonda,

mi incatena al suolo.

 

Si allentano i passi

e non trovo lavoro

né indirizzo

né casa.

 

Vivo,

clandestino

ma vivo,

e senza numero

né nome,

fuggo gli elenchi,

le voci e gli sguardi

curiosi di sapere

o catalogare.

 

Si smagliano

i lacci

delle mie scarpe

e poco importa

(tornerò a camminare

a piedi nudi

come da fanciullo

per le strade

del mio paese);

ma cedono

quelle stringhe

che tengono in piedi

la vita intera,

e muoio,

mille volte al giorno

ad ogni passo

da clandestino

muoio.

 

 

SONG OF THE NEW EMIGRANTS
                           For Franco Costabile    

 

Don’t ask anything more!

We have locked away

our tears

using lock picks

of anger,

or nothing.

With shame,

we’ve closed

all our vowels,

the broad and coarse ones.

We have learned

to fold

life

into one suitcase,

to tidily

pack away

the soul

into a box.

We hold

books of hope

concealed in a briefcase.

We sing

our music by heart,

but we tap to the time

and answer to the rhythm

of whatever demand.

We turn

toward any name

on the map;

disembark

at the requested stops.

We pay what’s owed,

take the change,

and we are happy with that.

 

 

CANTO DEI NUOVI EMIGRANTI
(Omaggio a Franco Costabile)

 

Non chiedeteci altro!

Abbiamo serrato

le lacrime

con grimaldelli

di rabbia,

con niente.

Abbiamo chiuso

con vergogna

tutte le vocali

ampie e sgangherate.

Abbiamo imparato

a ripiegare

in una valigia

la vita,

a riporre

ordinatamente

l’anima

in una scatola.

Abbiamo

titoli di speranza

chiusi nella cartella.

Cantiamo

musiche a memoria.

Bussiamo a tempo

e rispondiamo al ritmo

di qualsiasi pretesa.

Svoltiamo

ad ogni nome

segnato sulla carta;

scendiamo

alle fermate richieste.

Paghiamo il giusto,

prendiamo il resto,

e basta.

 

 

 

FOREIGNERS

Courage, brothers

we will try

not to displease

our host,

we’ll be quiet

and will move carefully

without committing a crime.

 

We won’t shout in public.

 

We will live,

as tenants of the world.

 

We will greet people

according to language and custom,

will knock quietly

and ask permission

before we enter,

will smile at passersby

and keep our heads down.

 

We won’t request to speak

and won’t utter opinions,

and in silence we will pray

to our God.

 

We will give in

to the fool and to the boor.

 

And at last

when we return home

in all our infinite roughness

we will choose a tree

under which to grow old.

 

 

STRANIERI

Coraggio fratelli,

cercheremo

di non scontentare

chi ci ospita,

faremo piano

e ci muoveremo furtivi

senza commettere reato.

 

Non urleremo in pubblico.

 

Vivremo,

come inquilini del mondo.

 

Saluteremo

secondo la lingua e l’uso,

busseremo piano

e chiederemo permesso

prima di entrare,

sorrideremo ai passanti

e terremo bassa la testa.

 

Non chiederemo parola

e non pronunceremo opinione,

pregheremo in silenzio

il nostro Dio.

 

Acconsentiremo

allo stolto e al villano.

 

E quando finalmente

torneremo alle case,

nella nostra infinita rozzezza

sceglieremo un albero

sotto il quale invecchiare.

 

 

 

THE LITTLE TRAIN CLATTERS

From the heart of Rome

Porta Maggiore,

compass of water and marble,

faces the south of things

and shows the way.

 

The little train clatters

on the Casilina

with its load of starvation

and eastern spices.

Tor Pignattara,

iron and tar,

is the crossroads of the world.

No longer cargo holds

nor waves

nor rust buckets,

but straight road

shrieking and shaking

below the rails;

and at Grotte Celoni,

terminus for the poor,

waiting motionless,

there is another road

and all the patience

needed to travel it

without swearing.

 

Somewhere

one has at least something

that looks like a home.

 

Our prayers tonight

go to our other brothers,

to the hopes

embedded in the eyes of those who,

off the coast of Lampedusa,

were swallowed by the sea instead.

 

Would that love were enough

to give rise to love!


 

IL TRENINO SFERRAGLIA

Dal cuore di Roma

Porta Maggiore,

bussola di acqua e di marmo,

guarda al sud delle cose

e indica il cammino.

 

Il trenino sferraglia

sulla Casilina

col suo carico di digiuno

e di spezie orientali.

Tor Pignattara,

ferro e catrame,

è incrocio del mondo,

non più stiva

né onde,

né carretta del mare,

ma strada dritta

che stride e trema

sotto le rotaie;

e a Grotte Celoni,

capolinea dei poveri,

ad attendere immobile

c’è altro cammino

e tutta la pazienza

necessaria a percorrerlo

senza inveire.

 

Da qualche parte

si ha almeno qualcosa

che somiglia ad una casa.

 

La preghiera

stasera

è per altri fratelli,

per quelle speranze

impresse negli occhi

che a largo di Lampedusa

sono state invece

inghiottite dal mare.

 

Bastasse amare

per far nascere amore!

 

 


 

Pasqualino Bongiovanni, born in 1971 in Lamezia Terme (Calabria, Italy), is an award winning poet and musicologist, with a degree  in Humanities from the University “La Sapienza” in Rome. He teaches Italian and classical guitar.  As a poet he published his first work, A sud delle cose, in Rome in 2006; a collection of poems with an introductory note by acclaimed Italian writer Mario Rigoni Stern (1921-2008). The collection has been then translated into Spanish by José M. Carcione and published in Argentina in a bilingual edition with the title Al sur de las cosas (Buenos Aires, 2012). In 2013, it was translated into English by Giuseppe Villella and published in Canada in a bilingual edition with the title To The South of Things. Currently, Marie Marazita is working on the French translation. A new edition in Italian accompanied by an audiobook with the voice of the actress Aurora Cancian is under way by Lebeg editions, as is e-book with the English translation made by Giuseppe Villella.
e-mail: info@pasqualinobongiovanni.it web: www.pasqualinobongiovanni.itpublications: http://www.pasqualinobongiovanni.it/pubblicazioni/

 

 

 

Featured image: Photo by Melina Piccolo.

 

 

 

 

Tags: assimilationCalabriaCanadadiscriminationDon StangDonald StangEuropeFranco CostabileGiuseppe VillellaHelen Wickesidentityimmigrantsinternal migrationsmigrationNorthern ItalyPasqualino BongiovanniPoetryRomeSouthern Italy

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