Marco Pelliccioli

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'Not only death, you know, frightens me'

Not only death, you know, frightens me
but this prevailing, everlasting
here and now
that, in two clicks, devours
history, fathers and roots
ditching me, the father, the son in her womb,
orphaned and lonely...
Garments, debris, swishes and shards,
the shattered earth:
“Who are we?”
you ask me now...

'Niet alleen het sterven, weet je, beangstigt me'

Niet alleen het sterven, weet je, beangstigt me
maar dit eeuwige, heersende heden
dat de vaders, de wortels, het verleden verzwelgt
met slechts enkele klikken
en mij, vader, verlaat, de zoon in haar schoot
een wees, alleen …
scherven, puin, kleding, ruis,
gebarsten aarde:
“Wie zijn we?”
dat vraag je me nu …

'Non solo la morte'

Non solo la morte, sai, mi spaventa
ma questo eterno, imperante presente
che fagocita i padri, le radici, la storia
con un paio di clic
e lascia me padre, il figlio nel ventre di lei
orfani, soli…
Cocci, detriti, vesti, fruscii,
la terra spaccata:
“Chi siamo?”
mi chiedi ora tu…

Marco Pelliccioli

(Italy, 1982)

“Who are we?”
you ask me now...

Marco Pelliccioli populates his poetry with a wide variety of characters. The place is crowded, one figure after another rooted in the obscenity of our modern age passes by you, visibly unaware of the fundamental changes this era is inflicting on them. They are small representations, fragments of events, expressionistic portraits of characters in their trivial da...