Nazim Hikmet – Nostalgia
Giorgio de Chirico, Melancholy of a beautiful day, 1913 Nostalgia never left my side throughout the journey it was right
Giorgio de Chirico, Melancholy of a beautiful day, 1913 Nostalgia never left my side throughout the journey it was right
Nikolay Bogdanov-Belsky, Country boys, 1916 I don’t sleep. I see a road, a grove making my chest tight, anxious; where
Renè Magritte, L’acte de foi, 1960 Sfuma il turchino in un azzurro tutto stelle. Io siedo alla finestra e guardo.
Franz von Stuck, Circle dancing, 1910 Come sfioriscono i giorni alla pari di fredde danze! Nessuno vuol ardere e splendere,
Aristide Maillol, Woman with a Parasol, 1895 Oranges do not grow in the sea neither is there love in Sevilla.
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, In bed, 1893 By chance, while you’re asleepwith my fingers I unintentionally tickle you, and you laugh,you laugh,
Salvador Dalì, Honey is sweeter than blood, 1941 This sky made of steel is ours, it doesn’t pretend to beEden,
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, In Bed, The Kiss, 1892 Ringrazio la sedia la scala la poltronache mi accoglieva in improvvisa debolezzaquando
Pietro da Cortona, Venus Appearing to Aeneas as a Huntress, c. 1635 Aventuroso carcere soave,dove né per furor né per
Salvador Dalì, Hollywood, 1947 E questa vuota follia d’uomotutti i suoi rantoli più atroci e sguaiatipoi la sua pace di
Justyna Kopania, Hot summer rain Con le piogge non potròbagnarmi nel fiume, amante,perché va il corpo dell’acquaferito e avvolto in
Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Dancing couple, 1914 I love uncertain gestures:someone stumbles, someone elsebangs his glasscan’t remember,gets distracted or the sentinelcan’t
Utagawa Hiroshige, Moonlight View of Tsukuda with Lady on a Balcony, 1850 Sit in front of the windowlook, but accept
Carlo Ferranti, An Amorous Advance, c. 1908 Your life is pleasing and gentle. Along the way appeared a well-dressed gentleman,
Maria Fortuny, Il contino, 1861 Lonely, you stand near the fountain, your face reflected in the water. The raw poetry
Vladimir Kush, Sunrise by the Ocean, 2000 When the I AM THAT I AM made nothingand rested, which rest it
Thomas Alexander Ferguson Graham, Alone in London, 1904 My father was not in the telephone bookin my city;my father was
Luigi Russolo, Self-portrait with skulls, 1909 To be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether ’tis nobler in the
Otto Dix, Newborn Baby on Hands, 1927 We women, we are so close to the brown earth. We ask the
Amedeo Modigliani, The Blue eyed Boy, 1916 Turbini di cranio fessi, lancinanti lampi nascosti tra le tende, le stanze disegnate
Jean-Leon Gerome, Pygmalion and Galatea, 1890 La bocca lor par bocca di statua, che non si schiuse al suono, al
Andrea Mantegna, ,The Triumphs of Caesar, c. 1492 Giove ha Cesare in cura. Ei dal delitto Svolge il diritto, e
Hanna Hirsch-Pauli, Princess with a spindle, 1896 In un salone in cui gridano gli ori – sorpresi dalla luce dell’aprile
George Barbier, La Belle Helene, 1928 Tearful bird, on sea-kissed Cyprus consecrated to remind me of my country, I moored
Bartosz Dluzewski, A Couple In The Dark, 2017 Why not merely the despaired of occasion of wordshed is it not
George Hendrik Breitner, Reclining nude, c. 1887 Horrible night of insomnia! – without the presence of your dear blessed body
Enrique Serra y Auque (1859-1918), A classical garden Non vollero rose sulle mense ma pasti sanguigni e intorno giuochi per
Dino Valls, Vera Icon, 2007 You stop agonizing for a while thinking that maybe life’s true essence has risen to the top (temporarily) or
Ivan Fedorovich Choultsé (1874-1939), March night, Russia Mountains fall before this grief, A mighty river stops its flow, But prison
George Elgar Hicks, The return home, 1873 Gioia del sogno, che mai uguagliò nessuna gioia reale! E che triste gioia
Correggio, Venus and Cupid with a Satyr, c. 1528 If I could find her all alone,sleeping or playing so for
Augustus Edwin Mulready, Fatigued Minstrels, 1883 O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders! O beggar, to come
Gustave Courtois, Persée délivrant Andromède, 1913 We were so far from each otherseas were among us,and mountains, and waters,fire and
Ron Hicks, On the phone, 2013 Le mani con un tremito del telefono stringevano il filo; mi aveva poco prima
Paolo Pagani, Jupiter and Semele, 1693 Arrabbiati, ti amo arrabbiato e ribelle, rivoluzione cocente, esplosione. Ho odiato il fuoco che
Jules Breton, Last flowers, 1890 I do not regret, and I do not shed tears, all, like haze off apple-trees,
Francesco Hayez, Penitent Mary Magdalene, 1825 It’s Hell for us to draw the fettersof life in alienation, stiff.All people prefer
Honoré Daumier, The Drama, 1860 They mouth love’s language. Gnashthe thirteen teethyour lean jaws grin with. Lashyour itch and quailing,
William Stephen Coleman (1829-1904), The Butterfly Catcher Some day you’ll have a past, Yvonne, and you’ll see what a funny
William Orpen, To the Unknown British Soldier in France, 1927 He reached his death. But his living was so intense,
Walter Crane, Shelley’s Tomb in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome, 1873 Under the wide and starry skyDig the grave and
Francesco Cairo (1607–1665), Cleopatra Non voglio un mattone dal tetto –voglio morire lentamente.Voglio morire, osservandoil corpo che secerne, gocciadopo goccia,
Joseph Farquharson, The Shortening Winter’s Day is near a Close, 1903 He travels after a winter sun,urging the cattle along
Edward Hopper, Cape Cod Morning, 1950 Una casa deserta che io amo,a due ore da qui,mi serve di conforto.Sulle sue
Giambattista Tiepolo, The Immaculate Conception, 1769 Accostandosi le ciglia lentamente, quasi senza voce mi chiudono nelle mani esangui una perla.
Lovis Corinth, Ecce Homo, 1925 Avvincono al tormento due corde, ne sono stretto da ogni parte: il nodo non trovo
William John Hennessy, The Pride of Dijon, 1879 Elizabeth it is in vain you say“Love not” — thou sayest it
Pompeo Mariani (1857-1939), La sposa del mare (Sea’s bride) A nun takes the veil I have desired to gowhere springs
Alessandro Magnasco (1667–1749), Prayer of the Penitent Monks Sadly the dead leaves rustle in the whistling wind, around the weather-worn,
Sergey A. Tutunov, Twilight, 1972 Being apart and lonely is like rain. It climbs toward evening from the ocean plains;
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