• TABLE OF CONTENT
    • the dreaming machine – issue number 12
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 11
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 10
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 9
    • The dreaming machine – issue number 8
    • 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 12
    • The dreaming machine n 11
    • The dreaming machine n 10
    • The dreaming machine n 9
    • The dreaming machine n 8
    • The dreaming machine n 7
    • The dreaming machine n 6
    • The dreaming machine n 5
    • The dreaming machine n 4
    • The dreaming machine n 3
    • The dreaming machine n 2
    • The dreaming machine n 1
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  • Poetry
    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    The delicate hour of the birds among the branches – Poems by Melih Cevdet Anday (trans. Neil P. Doherty)

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    A flock of cardinals melted in the scarlet sky: Poems by Daryna Gladun

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    The wolf hour and other poems by Ella Yevtushenko

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Testing the worth of poetic bombshells – Four poems by Abdul Karim Al-Ahmad

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

  • Fiction
    Chapter ten, from”Come What May” by Ahmed Masoud

    Chapter ten, from”Come What May” by Ahmed Masoud

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    The Naked Shell of Aloneness – Kazi Rafi

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    The Shadow of a Shadow – Nandini Sahu

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Football is Life – Mojaffor Hossein

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Origin – 1. The House, at night, by Predrag Finci

    HOT MANGO CHUTNEY SAUCE – Farah Ahamed (from Period Matters)

    HOT MANGO CHUTNEY SAUCE – Farah Ahamed (from Period Matters)

    Take Note of the Sun Shining Within Twilight – Four Poems by Natalia Beltchenko

    BOW / BHUK – Parimal Bhattacharya

  • Non Fiction
    My Lover, My Body – Gonca Özmen, trans. by Neil P. Doherty

    My Lover, My Body – Gonca Özmen, trans. by Neil P. Doherty

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    A tribute to Carla Macoggi – An invitation to reading her novels, by Jessy Simonini

    A tribute to Carla Macoggi – An invitation to reading her novels, by Jessy Simonini

    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    What Gets Read: How the Beats Caught on in Italy – Clark Bouwman

    What Gets Read: How the Beats Caught on in Italy – Clark Bouwman

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Of romantic love and its perils: The lyrics of the enigmatic Barbara Strozzi – Luciana Messina

  • Interviews & reviews
    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Paradoxes of misfits and wanderers: Modhura Bandyopadhyay reviews Stalks of Lotus

    Beauty and Defiance: Ukrainian contemporary paintings in Padua- Show organizer Liudmila Vladova Olenovych in conversation with Camilla Boemio

    Beauty and Defiance: Ukrainian contemporary paintings in Padua- Show organizer Liudmila Vladova Olenovych in conversation with Camilla Boemio

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    A preview of Greek poet Tsabika Hatzinikola’s second collection “Without Presence, Dreams Do Not Emerge”, by Georg Schaaf

    Ascension: A conversation with Matthew Smith

    Ascension: A conversation with Matthew Smith

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Of Concentric Storytelling, Footballs and the Shifting World

    Lexically Sugared Circuits of R/elation: A Conversation with Adeena Karasick

    Lexically Sugared Circuits of R/elation: A Conversation with Adeena Karasick

  • Out of bounds
    • All
    • Fiction
    • Intersections
    • Interviews and reviews
    • Non fiction
    • Poetry
    Camilla Boemio interviews Malaysian artist Kim Ng

    Poetic bridges and conversations: Icelandic, Kiswahili and English through three poems by Hlín Leifsdóttir

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Human Bestiary Series – Five Poems by Pina Piccolo

    Bear encounters in Italy:  Jj4, anthropomorphized nature and the dialectics of generations – Post by Maurizio Vitale (a.k.a. Jack Daniel)

    Bear encounters in Italy: Jj4, anthropomorphized nature and the dialectics of generations – Post by Maurizio Vitale (a.k.a. Jack Daniel)

    Chapter four from “La cena- Avanzi dell’ex Jugoslavia”, by Božidar Stanišić

    Chapter four from “La cena- Avanzi dell’ex Jugoslavia”, by Božidar Stanišić

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    A song of peace and other poems by Julio Monteiro Martins

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    I am the storm rattling iron door handles (Part I)- Poems by Michael D. Amitin

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Spirited away by the northern winds (Part I) – Poems by Marcello Tagliente

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Like a geological specimen in a darkened room: Two poems by Neil Davidson

  • News
    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

    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)

  • Home
  • Poetry
    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    The delicate hour of the birds among the branches – Poems by Melih Cevdet Anday (trans. Neil P. Doherty)

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    A flock of cardinals melted in the scarlet sky: Poems by Daryna Gladun

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    The wolf hour and other poems by Ella Yevtushenko

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Testing the worth of poetic bombshells – Four poems by Abdul Karim Al-Ahmad

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

  • Fiction
    Chapter ten, from”Come What May” by Ahmed Masoud

    Chapter ten, from”Come What May” by Ahmed Masoud

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    The Naked Shell of Aloneness – Kazi Rafi

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    The Shadow of a Shadow – Nandini Sahu

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Football is Life – Mojaffor Hossein

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Origin – 1. The House, at night, by Predrag Finci

    HOT MANGO CHUTNEY SAUCE – Farah Ahamed (from Period Matters)

    HOT MANGO CHUTNEY SAUCE – Farah Ahamed (from Period Matters)

    Take Note of the Sun Shining Within Twilight – Four Poems by Natalia Beltchenko

    BOW / BHUK – Parimal Bhattacharya

  • Non Fiction
    My Lover, My Body – Gonca Özmen, trans. by Neil P. Doherty

    My Lover, My Body – Gonca Özmen, trans. by Neil P. Doherty

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    A tribute to Carla Macoggi – An invitation to reading her novels, by Jessy Simonini

    A tribute to Carla Macoggi – An invitation to reading her novels, by Jessy Simonini

    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    What Gets Read: How the Beats Caught on in Italy – Clark Bouwman

    What Gets Read: How the Beats Caught on in Italy – Clark Bouwman

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Of romantic love and its perils: The lyrics of the enigmatic Barbara Strozzi – Luciana Messina

  • Interviews & reviews
    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Paradoxes of misfits and wanderers: Modhura Bandyopadhyay reviews Stalks of Lotus

    Beauty and Defiance: Ukrainian contemporary paintings in Padua- Show organizer Liudmila Vladova Olenovych in conversation with Camilla Boemio

    Beauty and Defiance: Ukrainian contemporary paintings in Padua- Show organizer Liudmila Vladova Olenovych in conversation with Camilla Boemio

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    A preview of Greek poet Tsabika Hatzinikola’s second collection “Without Presence, Dreams Do Not Emerge”, by Georg Schaaf

    Ascension: A conversation with Matthew Smith

    Ascension: A conversation with Matthew Smith

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Of Concentric Storytelling, Footballs and the Shifting World

    Lexically Sugared Circuits of R/elation: A Conversation with Adeena Karasick

    Lexically Sugared Circuits of R/elation: A Conversation with Adeena Karasick

  • Out of bounds
    • All
    • Fiction
    • Intersections
    • Interviews and reviews
    • Non fiction
    • Poetry
    Camilla Boemio interviews Malaysian artist Kim Ng

    Poetic bridges and conversations: Icelandic, Kiswahili and English through three poems by Hlín Leifsdóttir

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Human Bestiary Series – Five Poems by Pina Piccolo

    Bear encounters in Italy:  Jj4, anthropomorphized nature and the dialectics of generations – Post by Maurizio Vitale (a.k.a. Jack Daniel)

    Bear encounters in Italy: Jj4, anthropomorphized nature and the dialectics of generations – Post by Maurizio Vitale (a.k.a. Jack Daniel)

    Chapter four from “La cena- Avanzi dell’ex Jugoslavia”, by Božidar Stanišić

    Chapter four from “La cena- Avanzi dell’ex Jugoslavia”, by Božidar Stanišić

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    A song of peace and other poems by Julio Monteiro Martins

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    I am the storm rattling iron door handles (Part I)- Poems by Michael D. Amitin

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Spirited away by the northern winds (Part I) – Poems by Marcello Tagliente

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Like a geological specimen in a darkened room: Two poems by Neil Davidson

  • News
    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

    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)

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Home Poetry

Silent, watching the growth of nothingness – Three poems by Julio Monteiro Martins

Translated from Italian by Donald Stang and Helen Wickes

April 15, 2023
in Poetry, The dreaming machine n 11
Take Note of the Sun Shining Within Twilight – Four Poems by Natalia Beltchenko
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Verbi gratia

 

Avevo tanta paura
dei sostantivi astratti
che mi sentivo al sicuro
persino fra gli aggettivi.

 

Paura per esempio
della parola libertà
(è usata in sensi opposti,
uno a destra,
l’altro a sinistra,
e nessuno dei due credibile).

 

Ero anche allergico
al concetto di verità.
Tagliato su misura
per ogni convenienza
da un tessuto logoro,
dai brandelli dei fatti.

 

Volevo circondarmi
di sostantivi concreti,
di cose semplicemente:
conchiglia, candela,
cometa, sapone,
vaniglia, frittella.

 

Chiudevo gli occhi
e questi sostantivi
sfilavano dentro di me,
uno scaffale vivente,
come un tesoro
alla portata dei miei verbi.

 

Ma il mondo
è tanto cambiato.
Come potevo indovinare?
I suoi nuovi abitanti
volevano concretezza.
E una paura inedita
mi assalì,
assediato com’ero
dai motorini,
dalle catenine d’oro,
dalle barche e dalle macchine,
dai rolex,
dalle carte di credito.
Troppi sostantivi
inqualificabili.
Troppi soggetti,
nessun predicato.

 

E ora s’insinua in me
la doverosa nostalgia
dei sostantivi astratti:
chi l’avrebbe detto!
Princìpi, lucidità,
equilibrio, equità,
riflessione,
coerenza, correttezza,
fierezza,
dignità
(e anche la parola astrazione,
per ironia,
oggi mi sembra bella).

 

Magari sono cambiato io
dopotutto.
Forse ho capito
che tutti i sostantivi
sono astratti.
Che parola è parola
e cosa è cosa,
e che è molto pericoloso
scambiare una per l’altra.

 

Più lontana dalle cose
è la parola
più vicina sarà a se stessa.

 

Se guardandosi intorno
dopo averla ascoltata
non si trova niente
che le somigli,
prendiamola come un invito
sottile
a un pensiero nuovo,
o un richiamo
a un’antica arte.

 

L’arte di disegnare
con la voce
l’idea,
per poi versarla sulle cose
e intingerle di senso.

 

Oggi ho paura e amore,
parole astratte
ambigue e imperiture
tra le nostre mani.

 

 
By the Grace of Words

 

I used to have such a fear
of abstract nouns
that I even felt safe
among the adjectives.

 

For example, fear
of the word liberty
(it is used in opposing ways,
one by the right,
the other by the left,
and neither of them believable).

 

I was also allergic
to the concept of truth:
cut to measure
for every convenience
from a worn-out fabric
of the shreds of facts.

 

I wanted to surround myself
with concrete nouns,
with straightforward things:
shell, candle,
comet, soap,
vanilla, pancake
.

 

I would close my eyes,
and these nouns
would parade inside me,
a living library,
a treasure
within reach of my verbs.

 

But the world
has changed so much.
How could I have guessed?
Its new inhabitants
wanted concreteness.
And an unprecedented fear
assailed me,
besieged as I was
by mopeds,
gold chains,
by boats and by cars,
by Rolexes,
by credit cards.
Too many
deplorable nouns.
Too many subjects
without a predicate.

 

And now an appropriate nostalgia
for abstract nouns
pervades me:
who would have predicted it!
Principles, lucidity,
equilibrium, equity,
reflection,
coherence, correctness,
pride,
dignity

(and even the word abstraction,
ironically,
now seems beautiful to me).

 

Maybe I have changed
after all.
Perhaps I have understood
that all nouns
are abstractions.
That a word is a word
and a thing is a thing,
and that it’s quite dangerous
to mistake one for the other.

 

The further the word
is from things,
the closer it is to itself.

 

If looking around
after hearing the word
we find nothing
that resembles it,
let us take that as
a subtle invitation
to a new way of thinking
or a reminder
of an ancient art:

 

the art of representing
the idea
with the voice,
and then to instill it in things
and thereby bathe them with meaning.

 

Today I feel fear and love,
abstract words,
ambiguous and imperishable
in our hands.

 

 

Eclissare il Taj Mahal

 

Perché un amore
non fosse dimenticato
il principe Shah Jahan
fece erigere
il palazzo più bello
e gli diede il nome
dell’amata morta
Mumtaz Mahal.

 

Dopo molti anni
il principe moriva
e ammirandolo
forse confondeva
il marmo bianco
con l’ultima pelle
dell’amata morta.

 

O forse voleva dire
una cosa molto semplice,
che il suo non era stato
un amore
ma l’amore.

 

Anche a me
che non sono un principe
si è presentato l’amore,
molti anni fa
(l’amore è democratico,
poveri noi!).
Per l’amore
– dovete perdonarmi –
non ho fatto erigere
il Taj Mahal.
Non ho scolpito
in suo omaggio
un monolito,
né inciso
una lapide.
Per rispetto o per timore
non ne ho scritto
una sola riga,
tranne queste.

 

La scomparsa dell’amore
l’ho vissuta soltanto
come un buco,
un cratere,
del tutto alieno
a ingegneri e architetti.

 

L’amore che è stato,
che un giorno ha fermato il tempo
e oggi mi ferma il cuore,
è solo una parte di me
che si è volatilizzata.
Una grande cancellatura
non so dire esattamente di cosa.
Se potessi disporre
di marmo,
schiavi,
anni,
non erigerei comunque
il Taj Mahal.
Rimarrei in silenzio
come ora
a vedere crescere il nulla,
a vedermi sciogliere
come la noce di burro
al centro della padella.

 

Non avrei eretto
il Taj Mahal,
non avrei nemmeno
graffiato su un albero
il nome dell’amata morta.
Non l’ho mai fatto.

 

Penso agli altri, sappiatelo.
Per proteggerli
dell’ineludibile
sentimento di cratere
che l’amore lascia:
la sua impronta
immateriale.

 

 

Per proteggere
chi non ama
dalla vista del cratere,
dalla vertigine
al guardarne il fondo.

 

 

Eclipsing the Taj Mahal

 

So that such a love
might not be forgotten,
the prince Shah Jahan
ordered the most beautiful palace
to be built
and bestowed on it the name
of his dead love,
Mumtaz Mahal.

 

After many years
the prince was dying,
and admiring
the white marble
mistook it, perhaps,
for the actual skin
of his dead love.

 

Or perhaps he meant to say
something much simpler:
that his love was not
a love
but love itself.

 

Even to me,
though I am not a prince,
love presented itself,
many years ago
(love is democratic,
heaven help us!).
For love—
please forgive me—
I did not order the Taj Mahal
to be built.
I did not sculpt
in its homage
a monolith,
nor did I engrave
a plaque.
Whether from respect or reverence,
I haven’t written
a single line,
except for these.
The loss of love
I simply endured
as one does an abyss,
a crater,
altogether foreign
to engineers and architects.

 

The love that was,
which one day stopped time
and today stops my heart,
is only a part of me
that has evaporated.
A big erasure,
I don’t know how to say exactly of what.
If I could command
marble,
slaves,
years,
I still would not build
the Taj Mahal.
I would remain silent,
as now,
watching the growth of nothingness,
seeing myself dissolve
like a pat of butter
in the center of the pan.

 

I would not erect
the Taj Mahal,
nor would I even
carve on a tree
the name of my dead loved one.
I have never done so.

 

I am thinking of others, you know.
To protect them
from the inescapable
crater-like feeling
left by love:
its intangible
imprint.
To protect
those who do not love
from viewing the crater,
the vertigo
of seeing all the way to the very bottom.

 

 

Seduto immobile

 

Seduto immobile
ho visto spegnersi
intorno a me
la mia generazione
come brace dispersa.

 

Fa buio
nell’angolo del mio cortile.
La notte s’illumina
di altri fuochi.
Ma io non li riconosco.

 

Sono il poeta
che ha deciso di non mentire.
Il poeta impopolare
a cui poco è rimasto
da dire.
Tre o quattro cose,
tutte cose tristi,
tutte cose vere.

 

Il vento che soffia nella notte
ad accendere fuochi
è lo stesso che consuma
la brace,
che porta via le cenere.
In balìa del vento
scompaiono le ultime tracce
di ciò che ho vissuto
di ciò che ho amato.

 

Tutto ciò che deve scomparire
scomparirà in mezzo
al turbinio,
al vociare stridulo,
ai tamburi, ai clacson,
a tutte le campane.

 

Baciata dal nulla
un’intera generazione
non è mai nata.
Le tenebre non custodiscono
residui di luce.

 

Baciato anch’io dal nulla,
sempre seduto e immobile,
spengo la mia memoria.
Un soffio e poi
l’oblio profondo
della memoria del mondo.

 
Sitting Motionless

 

Sitting motionless
I have seen
my generation extinguished
around me
like scattered embers.

 

It is getting dark
in the corner of my courtyard.
Night is illuminated
by other fires.
But I don’t recognize them.

 

I am the poet
who decided not to lie.
The unpopular poet
to whom little is left
to say.
Three or four things,
all sad things,
all true things.

 

The wind blowing in the night
and kindling fires
is the same that consumes
the embers,
carries the ashes away.
The last traces
of what I have lived,
of what I have loved,
are vanishing at the mercy of the wind.

 

All that must disappear
will disappear in the midst
of the whirlwind,
of a strident clamor,
of drums, the honking of cars,
the chiming of bells.

 

Kissed by nothingness,
an entire generation
was never born.
The shadows do not safeguard
the light that still remains.

 

Even I, also kissed by nothingness,
still sitting and motionless,
switch off my memory.
One puff and then
profound oblivion
of the memory of the world.

 

The translators: Donald Stang is a longtime student of Italian. His
translations of Italian poetry have appeared or are forthcoming in
Carrying the Branch, by Glass Lyre Press, Silk Road, Pirene’s Fountain,
Mantis, Newfound, Catamaran, Ghost Town, Blackbird, Apple Valley Review,
Apricity Magazine, America, We Call Your Name: Poems of Resistance and
Resilience by Sixteen Rivers Press, and thedreamingmachine.com.

Helen Wickes’ work appears in AGNI Online, Atlanta Review, Boulevard,
Massachusetts Review, Slag Review, Sagarana, Soundings East, South
Dakota Review, Spillway, TriQuarterly, Westview, Willow Review, ZYZZYVA,
thedreamingmachine.com (poems and translations of Italian poetry), as
well as many others. Four books of her poetry have been published.

Cover artwork: ME(A)LS “Barren Garden”

 

Tags: deathDon StanggrammarHelen WickesJulio Monteiro MarinslanguageloveobjectsPoetrytime
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