Poem
Massimo Morasso
Yet I know you watch me as I live
Yet I know you watch me as I live,waiting for my useless verb,
for the stones I throw at appearance,
you inhabited inhabitants,
you, turned into ghosts,
into ghostly ancestors.
Of you, bodiless now, I know nothing,
I imagine you as faraway and frightened,
somewhere in a universal ravine, cleaved
to a root like lilies.
That you have been, this is irrevocable.
How difficult,
to wear the wetsuit of the deep-sea-diving son,
to descend to the bottom of distance
only to find it here again
at the center of my heart!
And how strange, to feel you, both unreachable and present…
Even the galaxies, accelerating, growing distant
between themselves, are disconsolate.
Cosmic energy, ever more haunted,
but here the seagulls fly in a wind of flares.
© Translation: 2017, Moira Egan and Damiano Abeni
Yet I know you watch me as I live,
Eppure so che mi guardate mentre vivo,
in attesa del mio inutile verbo,
delle sassate che tiro all’apparenza,
voi abitanti abitati,
voi traformati in spettri,
in fantasmatici antenati.
Di voi, senza più corpo non so nulla,
vi immagino remoti e spaventati
in qualche anfratto universale, abbarbicati
a una radice come gigli.
Che siate stati, questo e irrevocabili.
Com’è difficile
vestire la muta del figlio-palombaro
scendere al fondo della lontananza
per ritrovarla qui,
nel centro del mio cuore!
E com’è strano, sentirvi irragiungibili e presenti…
Sono tristissime perfine le galassie
che si allontanano fra loro, accelerando.
Più spiritata, cosmica energia,
Ma qui i gabbiani in un vento di bengala.
in attesa del mio inutile verbo,
delle sassate che tiro all’apparenza,
voi abitanti abitati,
voi traformati in spettri,
in fantasmatici antenati.
Di voi, senza più corpo non so nulla,
vi immagino remoti e spaventati
in qualche anfratto universale, abbarbicati
a una radice come gigli.
Che siate stati, questo e irrevocabili.
Com’è difficile
vestire la muta del figlio-palombaro
scendere al fondo della lontananza
per ritrovarla qui,
nel centro del mio cuore!
E com’è strano, sentirvi irragiungibili e presenti…
Sono tristissime perfine le galassie
che si allontanano fra loro, accelerando.
Più spiritata, cosmica energia,
Ma qui i gabbiani in un vento di bengala.
From: L’opera in rosso
Publisher: Passigli Poesia,
Publisher: Passigli Poesia,
Poems
Poems of Massimo Morasso
Close
Yet I know you watch me as I live
Yet I know you watch me as I live,waiting for my useless verb,
for the stones I throw at appearance,
you inhabited inhabitants,
you, turned into ghosts,
into ghostly ancestors.
Of you, bodiless now, I know nothing,
I imagine you as faraway and frightened,
somewhere in a universal ravine, cleaved
to a root like lilies.
That you have been, this is irrevocable.
How difficult,
to wear the wetsuit of the deep-sea-diving son,
to descend to the bottom of distance
only to find it here again
at the center of my heart!
And how strange, to feel you, both unreachable and present…
Even the galaxies, accelerating, growing distant
between themselves, are disconsolate.
Cosmic energy, ever more haunted,
but here the seagulls fly in a wind of flares.
© 2017, Moira Egan and Damiano Abeni
From: L’opera in rosso
From: L’opera in rosso
Yet I know you watch me as I live
Yet I know you watch me as I live,waiting for my useless verb,
for the stones I throw at appearance,
you inhabited inhabitants,
you, turned into ghosts,
into ghostly ancestors.
Of you, bodiless now, I know nothing,
I imagine you as faraway and frightened,
somewhere in a universal ravine, cleaved
to a root like lilies.
That you have been, this is irrevocable.
How difficult,
to wear the wetsuit of the deep-sea-diving son,
to descend to the bottom of distance
only to find it here again
at the center of my heart!
And how strange, to feel you, both unreachable and present…
Even the galaxies, accelerating, growing distant
between themselves, are disconsolate.
Cosmic energy, ever more haunted,
but here the seagulls fly in a wind of flares.
© 2017, Moira Egan and Damiano Abeni
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