Serafino Macchiati, After the Gala, 1905 Palazzeschi eravamo in tre,noi due e l’amara ironia,a braccetto per quella viacosì nostra alle ventitre.Il nome, chi lo ricorda?Dalle parti di San Gervasio;Silvio Pellico o Metastasio;c’era sull’angolo in blu.Mi ricordo però del resto:l’ombra d’oro sulle facciate,qualche raggio nelle vetrate;agiatezza e onorabilità.Tutto nuovo, le lastre azzurredel marciapiede annaffiato,le persiane verdi, …
Antonio Mancini, Lo studio, 1875 Don’t marvel at my sadness!And don’t ask me about it.I wouldn’t know how to answer youexcept with vain words,my God, so vainthat I’d break down in tears as if I were about to die.My tears would have the airof counting a rosary of sadnessbefore my soul, sorrowful seven times over.But …
Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, Venus Anadyomene, c. 1848 Golden waves – and those waves were hair – were one day ploughed by a little ship of ivory. A hand, also of ivory, held the ship as it sailed, preciously errant, here and there.And as it divided the quivering and beautiful billowswith the straightest of furrows,Amor gathered up the gold of those …
Giambattista Marino – Onde dorate / Golden waves Read More »
Edward Atkinson Hornel, Idyl in spring, 1905 All that is leftof the magic of the fair:is this little trumpet,of blue and green tin,blown by a girlas she walks, barefoot, through the fields.But within its forced noteare all the clowns, white ones and red ones,the band all dressed in gaudy gold,the merry-go-round, the calliope, the lights.Just …
Corrado Govoni – La trombettina / The little trumpet Read More »
Henry Siddons Mowbray, The rose festival, 1880 Give me a handful of roses and lilies,scatter violets and flowers around me each one brings tears and sadness to mebut holds the fruit of my happiness.Give me pure white and scarlet flowers..they make this day withtheir beautiful colours…Scatter around the perfume of lovethat the madness of my …
Cuno Amiet, Moonlight landscape, 1904 The night is longand timeless.And the sky, swollen with rain,allows not the eyesto see the stars.The frigid wind will notbring back the light,nor the rooster’s song,nor the baby’s cry.The night is just too long,and timeless,infinite. (Transl. by Lara Santoro e Paul D’Agostino) Lunga è la nottee senza tempo.Il cielo gonfio …
Peppino Impastato – Lunga è la notte / The Night is Long Read More »
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