Never have I happened to dutifully
bend to succour a bee ailing
from its days, work done,
sacrifice of a whole life,
nor have I happpened to stumble
upon the remains of one dead because of old age,
illness, thus, I ask myself
where the cemetery of the worker bees might be,
so I might visit them.
And in observing the coming and going therein
I might try to understand, to speak to the guard,
at least find out where they come from, and why,
in the end thank them for the gift they bestow
upon us,
then go away in silence, cautiously,
careful not to tread
a blade of grass, a grave, a flower…
Maybe I should have said something when, in a low voice you indicated, carefully, honey remember that I am still of child-bearing age, not for any other reason, you know, it is just that such a fickle word makes me think, a word uttered in a different way, and for a different reason, and the adverbs still and again do not arrest time, they invoke it, and it is an imperative while your legs imprison me with strength never experienced before, and the instant you push with your pelvis to make yourself a recipient, still anchored to each other, we are a sounding line of this immense sea.
Beh, sì, non facile dirlo, spiegarlo
senza rischiare d’esser fraintesi,
è che ti prenderei con tale impeto
da sembrare violenza,
invece saresti felice,
tornare al principio,
come quando non esistevano
che odori puri e intensi,
fragranze miste a bestino,
e mentre le afferro con avidità,
dalle tue cosce, i glutei,
sapore acre, pungente
sale alle mie narici,
estasi remota mista a erba bagnata,
muschio, rugiada, ritmi primigeni,
bagliori fra i rami,
e tu sei femmina, io maschio,
e ci vogliamo, mammiferi affamati,
anche per condividere il resto
fin oltre la tomba bisòma
che ci prepariamo.
Well, yeah, it’s not easy to say, to be explained
without running the risk of being misunderstood,
it is just that I would take you with such impetus
it might seem violence,
on the contrary you would be happy,
to go back to the beginning,
like the time there were only
pure and intense smells,
fragrances mixed with stench,
and while I seize so greedily,
from your thighs, your buttocks,
an acrid pungent taste
rises to my nostrils,
remote ecstasy blending with wet grass,
moss, dew, primal rhythms,
dazzlings amidst the branches,
and you female, I male,
and we love each other, famished mammals,
to share the rest too
up to and beyond the dual tomb
we are preparing.
“Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts”, life, love, death and the usual… – “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì”, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi… – Translation Italian-English: Philip Mc Court.
… sai, alla fine una cosa m’è rimasta impressa, non ci crederesti, anch’io fatico a spiegarmi, neppure saprei in che modo descriverlo, o rispondere al perché mi ricordo quel pomeriggio assolato, cicaleccio lontano, luce fredda e tagliente del giorno, insomma voglio dire, tu stavi seduta su un sasso a margine del sentiero, aria sbarazzina, ginocchia unite, piedi divaricati, calzini bianchi, lo sguardo, ma non è questo, è quando ci coricammo sul prato, io ti venni sopra, mai potrò dimenticare il morbido spessore, sì la consistenza del tuo corpo, da quel momento tutto fu chiaro, come una rivelazione che mi avrebbe accompagnato per sempre, la distanza intendo, lo stacco, proprio così, cioè il tuo frapporti, tenermi discosto dal terreno, proteggermi, non è facile dirlo, neppure pretendo d’esser capito, mi riferisco al fatto che esisti, e in virtù di ciò sto separato dall’abisso, sei scudo fra me e l’ultima dimora, la differenza tra la vita e la morte, spero ti giunga il mio pensiero…
… you know, in the end one thing remained impressed upon me, you would not believe it, I myself have got difficulty in explaining, and I would not know how to describe it, or to answer why I remember that sunny afternoon, distant babble, cold and cutting light of the day, in a word, I mean, you were sitting to one side on a stone along the path, saucy air about you, knees together, feet outspread, white socks, your look, but this is not the point, it is when we lay down on the grass, I got on top of you, never will I be able to forget the supple volume, yes the substance of your body, from that moment on everything was clear, like a revelation to accompany me for ever, I mean the distance – exactly, i. e. your cushioning position, keeping me detached from the ground, protecting me, it is not easy to say it nor do I expect to be understood, I am referring to the fact that you exist, and thanks to this I am separated from the abyss, you are a shield between me and my final dwelling, the difference between life and death, I hope that my message has got through to you…
Per egoismo avevo puntato tutto
su uno sguardo, senza considerare
il dolore dell’anima
che mi stava di fronte,
non me ne accorsi,
e lì mi ero perduto,
e parlai di questo
il giorno dopo, allo specchio,
mentre sistemavo il ciuffo ribelle,
pronto a calpestare altri sentieri
che si stavano aprendo,
e li avrei percorsi uno a uno
con insolenza, indifferente,
neanche fossi stato il vincitore.
Out of selfishness I had wagered everything
on a glance, without considering
the pain of the soul
before me,
I did not realize,
and that is where I went astray,
and I mentioned it
the following day looking into the mirror,
while I was subduing my cowlick,
ready to tread the paths
opening before me,
each undertaken
insolently, indifferently,
out of place – even if I had been the victor.
Goodbye, Mr Chips!
Many times I have been asked
what poetry is,
or prose,
an impulse to express the intangible,
this damnation, condemnation,
and I have always snapped back,
the wrong way.
One particular day,
after self-exaltation,
I said it was a type of writing
under dictation of a high principle,
as if those chosen by destiny to examine themselves
were elected,
but that is not exactly how it is.
Composing means
wishing to explain
mysteries only you see,
they do not exist,
many are not even mysteries,
they take origin from you,
in the end you go back to the beginning,
it is to investigate your infinity,
the dragging effect
hailing from that occasion,
so long ago,
when you understood that life
is also ill,
when you started crying,
alone, desperate,
on the cover of the book,
daddy had just finished reading
“Goodbye, Mr Chips!”,
nothing more.
Là in fondo, alla fine del parco, appena dietro il cimitero, erano fredde le tue cosce, denso e madido profumo di fiori morenti riempiva le narici, e al riparo della sottile nebbia l’ultimo cigolio dei cancelli diede voce al silenzio, e nella spenta luce tutto si dissolse fra le tue mutandine, e baciarti fu importante.
Down there, at the end of the park, just behind the cemetery, your thighs were cold, dense and damp scent of dying flowers filled the nostrils, and in the shelter of the slight fog the last creaking of the gates gave voice to the silence, and in the faded light everything dissolved in your underwear, and kissing you was important.
Non puoi muoverti, sei ostacolata, lo so, la posizione, le mie labbra, ti sono talmente sopra, incollati, sudore, le tue gambe, ci sto in mezzo, anche volessi sei impedita a chiuderle, ed è piacere tuo, anche questo so, e mio nel sapere che comunque lo determino io, con gomiti e avambracci ti stringo ai fianchi, le mani si afferrano, forte, al tuo petto, non da farti male, ci vado vicino, quanto basta a te, a me, noi lo sappiamo, lo chiedo, ti ascolto, orecchie e bocca, lingua e saliva, femmina e maschio, siamo animale alato compiuto, e tu così dischiusa a me, si vola a perdifiato, ascolta, guarda, là, ti amo, in questo mondo e in quello che verrà.
You cannot move hampered as you are, your position, my lips, I am so much on top of you, glued to each other, sweat, your legs are in the way, even if you wanted to, you are prevented from closing them, and the pleasure is yours, the thought mine – that, however, I decide, with my elbows and forearms I am squeezing your sides, my hands powerfully grasp your chest, not to harm you, I draw close, just enough for both of us, we know, I ask, I listen to you, ear and mouth, female and male, perfect, winged quadruped, and you so open to me, breathless flight, listen, look, there, I love you, in this world and the one to come.
L’altra faccia di Giacomo Leopardi (Ancóra) Forse avrei dovuto dire qualcosa quando, con fil di voce, stai attento amore, ricorda che sono ancóra fertile. Mica per altro sai, è quell’incostante vocabolo che mi fa pensare, parola detta in diverso modo, e differente causa, e l’avverbio non ferma il tempo, lo invoca, ed è imperativo mentre le tue gambe m’imprigionano con inaudita forza, e l’attimo che col bacino spingi nel farti coppa, noi, l’un l’altra ancoràti, siamo scandaglio di questo immenso mare.
The other side of Giacomo Leopardi (Still) Maybe I should have said something when, in a low voice you indicated, carefully, honey remember that I am still of child-bearing age, not for any other reason, you know, it is just that such a fickle word makes me think, a word uttered in a different way, and for a different reason, and the adverbs still and again do not arrest time, they invoke it, and it is an imperative while your legs imprison me with strength never experienced before, and the instant you push with your pelvis to make yourself a recipient, still anchored to each other, we are a sounding line of this immense sea.
Tomba bisòma ucraina, il mistero di una giovane coppia ucraina di 3000 anni fa, unita da un abbraccio eterno. Fonte: www.stilearte.it, 28 apr 2022
Tomba bisòma
Beh, sì, non facile dirlo, spiegarlo senza rischiare d’esser fraintesi, è che ti prenderei con tale impeto da sembrare violenza, invece saresti felice, tornare al principio, come quando non esistevano che odori puri e intensi, fragranze miste a bestino, e mentre le afferro con avidità, dalle tue cosce, i glutei, sapore acre, pungente sale alle mie narici, estasi remota mista a erba bagnata, muschio, rugiada, ritmi primigeni, bagliori fra i rami, e tu sei femmina, io maschio, e ci vogliamo, mammiferi affamati, anche per condividere il resto fin oltre la tomba bisòma che ci prepariamo.
Well, yeah, it’s not easy to say, to be explained without running the risk of being misunderstood, it is just that I would take you with such impetus it might seem violence, on the contrary you would be happy, to go back to the beginning, like the time there were only pure and intense smells, fragrances mixed with stench, and while I seize so greedily, from your thighs, your buttocks, an acrid pungent taste rises to my nostrils, remote ecstasy blending with wet grass, moss, dew, primal rhythms, dazzlings amidst the branches, and you female, I male, and we love each other, famished mammals, to share the rest too up to and beyond the dual tomb we are preparing.
QUESTO SITO WEB UTILIZZA I COOKIE PER ASSICURARE UNA MIGLIORE ESPERIENZA DI NAVIGAZIONE, OLTRE AI COOKIE DI NATURA TECNICA SONO UTILIZZATI ANCHE COOKIE DI PROFILAZIONE UTENTE E COOKIE DI TERZE PARTI. PER SAPERNE DI PIÙ, CONOSCERE I COOKIE UTILIZZATI ED ESPRIMERE IL TUO CONSENSO ACCEDI ALLA PAGINA COOKIE - SE PROSEGUI NELLA NAVIGAZIONE DI QUESTO SITO ACCONSENTI ALL’UTILIZZO DEI COOKIE.Accept
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