Pompeo Mariani (1857-1939), La sposa del mare (Sea’s bride) A nun takes the veil I have desired to gowhere springs not fail,to fields where flies no sharp and sided hailand a few lilies blow.And I have asked to bewhere no storms come,where the green swell is in the havens dumb,and out of the swing of …
Gerard Manley Hopkins – Porto Celeste / Heaven-Haven Read More »
Alessandro Magnasco (1667–1749), Prayer of the Penitent Monks Sadly the dead leaves rustle in the whistling wind, around the weather-worn, gray church, low down the vale: the Saints in glorious vesture shake before the gale; the glorious windows shake, where still they dwell enshrined; old Saints by long dead, shrivelled hands long since designed: there still, …
Lionel Johnson – La chiesa di un sogno / The church of a dream Read More »
Sergey A. Tutunov, Twilight, 1972 Being apart and lonely is like rain. It climbs toward evening from the ocean plains; from flat places, rolling and remote, it climbs to heaven, which is its old abode. And only when leaving heaven drops upon the city. It rains down on us in those twittering hours when the …
James Ensor, The Despair of Pierrot, 1892 Eyes, lakes of my simple passion to be rebornOther than as the actor who gestures with his handAs with a pen, and evokes the foul soot of the lamps,Here’s a window in the walls of cloth I’ve torn. With legs and arms a limpid treacherous swimmerWith endless leaps, …
Stephane Mallarmé – Il Pagliaccio Punito / The Clown Chastised Read More »
Pedro Saenz, The Poet’s Tomb, 1901 Such as into Himself at last eternity changes him,the Poet with a naked sword provokeshis century appalled to not have knowndeath triumphed in that strange voice! They, like an upstart hydra hearing the angel oncepurify the meaning of tribal wordsproclaimed out loud the prophecy drunkwithout honour in the tide …
Stephane Mallarmè – La tomba di Edgar Poe / The Tomb of Edgar Poe Read More »
Tanzio da Varallo, David and Goliath, c. 1625 My hero bares his nerves along my wrist That rules from wrist to shoulder, Unpacks the head that, like a sleepy ghost, Leans on my mortal ruler, The proud spine spurning turn and twist. And these poor nerves so wired to the skull Ache on the lovelorn …
Dylan Thomas – Discopre i suoi nervi il mio eroe / My hero bares his nerves Read More »
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