Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Andrea Inglese

THE TWO OF US TOGETHER HAVE NO NEED

The two of us together have no need
of dreams, nor sagas, legends, or rites,
stringed instruments, we have no
need of enameling, stucco, porcelain,
distinct is the spiral motif
of our fingertips, the auditory
opening surmounted by a shell
of flesh, which, grazed by hands
or tip of tongue, irradiates
the fever everywhere, the trembling,
the plunge of the blood, transparent,
dazzling is the sense of our
organs, clear is the use of  breath,
saliva, finger, the shadows
that darken  the gaze, assured,
sedating is the depth of the passes,
the tunnels, the pleats, good
is the surface, the tip, the tint
of the cuffs, the fabric and the lining
of flesh. On this altar
the bible is our hoarse
words, escaping our lips, the demented
keening. Here the divinities, all of them,
are hushed, stunned they fall silent,
learn from us, spasm after spasm,
terrestrial nourishments.

THE TWO OF US TOGETHER HAVE NO NEED

Noi due assieme non abbiamo bisogno
di sogni, né di saghe, leggende, riti,
strumenti ad arco, non abbiamo
bisogno di smalti, stucchi, porcellane,
è nitido il motivo a spirale
dei nostri polpastrelli, il foro
uditivo sormontato da una conchiglia
di carne, che sfiorata con mani
o punta di lingua irradia
ovunque la febbre, il tremore,
il precipizio del sangue, è limpido,
abbagliante il senso dei nostri
organi, è chiaro l’uso del fiato,
della saliva, del dito, delle ombre
che passano nello sguardo, è sicura,
sedativa la profondità dei varchi,
delle gallerie, delle pieghe, è buona
la superficie, la punta, la tinta
dei risvolti, la stoffa e la fodera
delle carni. Su questo altare
la bibbia sono le nostre parole
roche, sfuggite per sbaglio, le nenie
dementi. Qui le divinità, tutte,
tacciono, si spengono attònite,
imparano da noi, spasmo per spasmo,
i nutrimenti terrestri.
Close

THE TWO OF US TOGETHER HAVE NO NEED

The two of us together have no need
of dreams, nor sagas, legends, or rites,
stringed instruments, we have no
need of enameling, stucco, porcelain,
distinct is the spiral motif
of our fingertips, the auditory
opening surmounted by a shell
of flesh, which, grazed by hands
or tip of tongue, irradiates
the fever everywhere, the trembling,
the plunge of the blood, transparent,
dazzling is the sense of our
organs, clear is the use of  breath,
saliva, finger, the shadows
that darken  the gaze, assured,
sedating is the depth of the passes,
the tunnels, the pleats, good
is the surface, the tip, the tint
of the cuffs, the fabric and the lining
of flesh. On this altar
the bible is our hoarse
words, escaping our lips, the demented
keening. Here the divinities, all of them,
are hushed, stunned they fall silent,
learn from us, spasm after spasm,
terrestrial nourishments.

THE TWO OF US TOGETHER HAVE NO NEED

The two of us together have no need
of dreams, nor sagas, legends, or rites,
stringed instruments, we have no
need of enameling, stucco, porcelain,
distinct is the spiral motif
of our fingertips, the auditory
opening surmounted by a shell
of flesh, which, grazed by hands
or tip of tongue, irradiates
the fever everywhere, the trembling,
the plunge of the blood, transparent,
dazzling is the sense of our
organs, clear is the use of  breath,
saliva, finger, the shadows
that darken  the gaze, assured,
sedating is the depth of the passes,
the tunnels, the pleats, good
is the surface, the tip, the tint
of the cuffs, the fabric and the lining
of flesh. On this altar
the bible is our hoarse
words, escaping our lips, the demented
keening. Here the divinities, all of them,
are hushed, stunned they fall silent,
learn from us, spasm after spasm,
terrestrial nourishments.
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