Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Aldo Nove

NIGHT

It happens when we open up, and it tumbles
into us, brimming over to the horizon,

continually crumbling and rising.
In the rolling whirl of the opposites

every gesture changes into wind
and roughly shakes the trees, can you feel it?

It is the wind, breathing in our blood,
a symphony of the blood, our pact,

two rivers melting into the sea
where we come from but not in this time:

for here, there is no time, just the present
the limit is you, and here, ‘you’ means nothing,

and I mean nothing, my love,
nor the wind does.

Notte

Notte

Succede nell’aprirsi e cade dentro
di noi, trabocca, fino all’orizzonte
 
continuamente crolla e si rialza.
Nel turbine che rulla degli opposti
 
ogni attenzione si trasforma in vento
e scuote forte gli alberi, lo senti?
 
È il vento che respira dentro il sangue,
la sinfonia del sangue, il nostro patto,
 
due fiumi che si sciolgono nel mare
da cui veniamo e non in questo tempo:
 
perché qui non c’è tempo, solo adesso
Il limite sei tu, e qui tu è niente,
 
e niente io, amore mio,
né il vento.
Close

NIGHT

It happens when we open up, and it tumbles
into us, brimming over to the horizon,

continually crumbling and rising.
In the rolling whirl of the opposites

every gesture changes into wind
and roughly shakes the trees, can you feel it?

It is the wind, breathing in our blood,
a symphony of the blood, our pact,

two rivers melting into the sea
where we come from but not in this time:

for here, there is no time, just the present
the limit is you, and here, ‘you’ means nothing,

and I mean nothing, my love,
nor the wind does.

NIGHT

It happens when we open up, and it tumbles
into us, brimming over to the horizon,

continually crumbling and rising.
In the rolling whirl of the opposites

every gesture changes into wind
and roughly shakes the trees, can you feel it?

It is the wind, breathing in our blood,
a symphony of the blood, our pact,

two rivers melting into the sea
where we come from but not in this time:

for here, there is no time, just the present
the limit is you, and here, ‘you’ means nothing,

and I mean nothing, my love,
nor the wind does.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère