He waits for me in the mirror, as in an old tale about biased insanity, rarely does he look at me – I also know well the contempt he interchanges with fear – from the beginning we are together and we’ll certainly be until the last closing, when we leave for that nothing which belongs to us and to everyone. Sometimes I forget it, thus the journey becomes bearable and bright, but soon the unheeded goes back to count steps, to cut off breaths; I saw him, he arranged for himself extremely dubious hopes, insignificant prizes, when it would’ve been enough managing endless noisy anguishes and cravings. That time I tried to escape the room of his sad secret he left the door ajar and showed me only sand and ash, just for a moment.
(Transl. by Dina Foglia)
M’attende nello specchio come in un vecchio racconto di prevenuta pazzia, raramente mi guarda pure so bene il disprezzo che alterna alla paura, stiamo insieme ab initio ci staremo di certo fino all’estrema chiusura quando ripartiremo per quel niente che a noi come a tutti spetta. Ogni tanto lo scordo e andando si fa lieve e contento il tragitto, ma presto l’ignorato torna a contare i passi, a mozzare i respiri; l’ho visto, si ammanniva di assai dubbie speranze, di premi da poco, quando era sufficiente amministrarsi le ansie e le voglie mai zitte. La volta che ho provato a lasciare la stanza del suo triste segreto ha socchiuso la porta e m’ha mostrato, un attimo, sabbia soltanto e cenere.
This is a personal translation. Please contact me if you know another English translation.
