Month: April 2020

Louis-Ferdinand Celine – Viaggio al termine della notte / Journey to the end of the night

Hans Baluschek, Train station, 1904 Travel is useful, it exercises the imagination. All the rest is dis­appointment and fatigue. Our journey is entirely imaginary. That is its strength. It goes from life to death. People, animals, cities, things, all are imagined. It’s a novel, just a fictitious narrative. Littré says so, and he’s never wrong. …

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Fernando Pessoa – Per essere grande, sii intero / To be great, be whole

Rob Gonsalves, Over the moon, 2016 To be great, be whole;exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you.Be whole in everything. Put all you areinto the smallest thing you do.So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendorbecause it blooms up above. Per essere grande, sii intero: non esagerare.Non escludere niente di te.Sii tutto in …

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Bertolt Brecht – Breviario Tedesco / A German War Primer

Tom Lea, The 2000 Yard Stare, 1944 When the leaders speak of Peacethe common folk knowthat war is coming.When the leaders curse warthe mobilisation order is already written out.Those at the top say: peace and warare of different substance.War grows out of their peacelike a son out of a motherhe bearsher terrible features.Their war killswhatever …

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Wislawa Szymborska – Gli sono troppo vicina / I am too close for him

Roberto Ferri (b. 1978), Sonno di Rugiada I am too close for him to dream about me.I’m not flying over him, not fleeing himunder the roots of trees. I am too close.Not with my voice sings the fish in the net.Not from my finger rolls the ring.I am too close. A large house is on …

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Wislawa Szymborska – Impresso nella memoria / Commemoration

Renato Guttuso, Il bosco d’amore (Love Wood), 1985 They made love among the hazel shrubsbeneath the suns of dew,entangling in their haira leafy residue.Heart of the swallowhave mercy on them.They knelt down by the lake,combed out the earth and leaves,and fish swam to the water’s edgeshimmering like stars.Heart of the swallowhave mercy on them.The reflections …

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Ezra Pound – L’albero m’è penetrato nelle mani / The tree has entered my hands

Piero and Antonio del Pollaiuolo, Apollo and Daphne, c.1480 The tree has entered my hands,The sap has ascended my arms,The tree has grown in my breast-Downward,The branches grow out of me, like arms.Tree you are,Moss you are,You are violets with wind above them.A child – so high – you are,And all this is folly to …

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