mask

Elio Pecora – M’attende nello specchio / He waits for me in the mirror

Claudio Bonichi, Conversazione interrotta, 2010 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 leavefor that nothing which belongs to us …

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James Joyce – Ricordo degli attori nello specchio a mezzanotte / A Memory of the Players in a Mirror at Midnight

Honoré Daumier, The Drama, 1860 They mouth love’s language. Gnashthe thirteen teethyour lean jaws grin with. Lashyour itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh.Love’s breath in you is stale, worded or sung,as sour as cat’s breath,harsh of tongue.This grey that stareslies not, stark skin and bone.leave greasy lips their kissing. Nonewill choose her what …

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Stephane Mallarmé – Il Pagliaccio Punito / The Clown Chastised

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, …

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Corrado Govoni – La trombettina / The little trumpet

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 …

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Edoardo Sanguineti – Mi autoproduco

Victor Vasarely, Axonometric study, 1937 Mi autoproduco, fragile, mi clono, stacco me da me stesso, e a me mi dono; mi autodigitalizzo, ologrammatico, replicandomi in toto, svelto e pratico; mi automaschero, e, assai plasticamente, sindonizzo il mio corpo e la mia mente; mi autoregistro, ormai, se mi iconizzo, cromocifrato in spettro – e mi ironizzo. …

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Dario Bellezza – Le trombe squilleranno

George Underwood, Obviously six believers, 2010 Le trombe squillerannol’incubo sordoallora forse ti rivedrònon più di carnecon un altro al latoorgoglioso passerò senza salutinessuno più ci presenteràil vituperio assordantesilenzioso impazzirài nostri detriti cervellidissepolti per l’ultima coltain un’apocalisse irrisolta. Do you know this poem in English? Please contact me Go back to album – Dario Bellezza