statues/statue
The poet
A silent witness to words which make their way through hedges of thorny brambles and dust particles of infinity Between thorn and thorn particle and particle resides the poet like an ancient statue in a long-neglected garden her head tilted slightly downward her cheekbones enhanced by moss her lips ajar – just so that the spirit can escape A word still unuttered congeals on the lower lip awaiting the soft touch of the upper lip The poet still silent waits for the statue to awake the marble to become flesh the spirit to take form this form only this one at this moment this word A word the poet never even dreamed Milano, 10 April 2022 |
Il poeta
Testimone muto della parola che si apre la strada tra siepi di rovi spinosi e particelle di polvere di infinito Nello spazio tra spina e spina particella e particella vive il poeta come una statua antica in un giardino rinselvatichito la testa piegata leggermente verso il basso gli zigomi accentuati dal muschio le labbra socchiuse – quel tanto, o poco, che permette allo spirito di fuggire La parola ancora inespressa si consolida sul labbro inferiore in attesa del tocco morbido del labbro superiore Il poeta ancora muto attende che la statua si risvegli il marmo diventi carne lo spirito prenda forma questa forma soltanto questa in questo momento questa parola Un parola che non era apparsa al poeta neppure in sogno |
Marble death
I have been staring at my grief for a long time Walking around Michelangelo’s Pietà Rondanini admiring it from all sides taking in all the craggy volumes the column of sorrow Mary holding up such a weight Such a weight hugged by the white marble __________ They belong in that marble the mother and the sacrificial son They belong in its crystalline structure They share its obtuse solidity They sink into it grateful for its embrace They embrace its offer of death __________ They share death in the marble Ann Arbor, 10 May 2021 Marble statues
In cemeteries, statues rise from their pedestals like stalagmites from the underworld extrusions of irrepressible lives extinguished before their time As they fight to regain the surface of this earth their vitality dissipates their colors fade their blood drains They turn into white marble or gray stone frozen in pitiful shapes bent over or extending their arms like the victims of Pompeii Felled once again in plain sight Ann Arbor, 2 July 2020 |
Il sogno Si lasciò andare nel sogno nell’immagine opaca nella nebbia del mattino nel volo dei gabbiani nella grande vela che copriva il mare dolce il silenzio ci prendeva sussurrava la musica ombreggiava il giardino senza vita animato da pensieri non voluti fiori inselvatichiti ruderi di statue muschiose fronde scosse da un vento insonoro lontano irraggiungibile nel sogno Ann Arbor, 2 ottobre 2013 |
The dream She let herself go in the dream in the opaque image in the morning fog in the seagulls’ flight in the big sail that covered the sea gently the silence conquered us whispered music shadowed the lifeless garden enlivened by unwelcome thoughts flowers turned wild ruins of musky statues branches shaken by a soundless wind far away unreacheable in the dream |