- Candice, Sorry, I made an error in amending the last few lines...so I am
re=posting the poem: apologies.
Ah, I am exercising my sight, trying not to wear spectacles.
If this problem - presbiopia - is caused by progressive laziness and
weakening of the eye muscles,- and cannot be surgically corrected - as I
have been said, sadly - then, I though, the only solution is to exercise
the muscles and try to recover it. I think I am slightly getting better
(although still breaking every single at least some glass in my
proximities: people get really surprised when they see what happens: they
probably think I am just clumsy: all these drinks daily spilling on the
floor or table or desk and the area around me covered with fragments of
broken glasses: but I cannot modify this: I just cannot see them: glasses
are transparent).
And Candice, how are you? Are you doing something nice these days, be in
love with someone, passionate with something?
Love, Erminia
AT NIGHT
(Trans. Brian Cole)
If I had been
yours alone
what unhappy animal
would have made incursions
into your dreams
disturbed your days
sinking its fangs in the nape of your neck
the restless beech-marten
the wild cat
the greedy wolf?
If on your cheek
and on your exposed chest
- blue and tearful
like the body of Christ
I had left my bite
if before evening
and before nightfall
with gasping breath
- the humble eavesdropper
at my door
would have informed you
with no possibility of error
of my true nature
(that open wound)
who - except for you -
neither man nor beast
would you have expected to go
disarmed to listen...?
DI NOTTE
Se fossi stata
unicamente tua
quale infelice animale
avrebbe fatto incursione
nei tuoi sogni
disturbato i tuoi giorni
azzannandoti alla nuca
l'inquieta faina
il gatto selvatico
l'avida lupa?
Se sul tuo collo
e sul tuo petto esposto
- azzurro e lacrimante
come il corpo di Cristo
avessi lasciato il mio morso
se prima di sera
e prima della notte
con sospiro affannoso
- l’ origliare sommessoalla mia porta
t'avesse informato
senza possibilitŕ d'errore
della mia vera natura
(questa ferita aperta)
a chi - altro da te -
non uomo, nč bestia,
avresti chiesto di porsi
disarmato all'ascolto…?
Oxford, 19. 4. 2002
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