Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Davide Rondoni

Chartres and the news

Also for the children who go away in the dark

and you can’t hold them back
not even as blood
beloved between your hands

lies Chartres which rises against the sky

an hour of ugly train from the capital

great rock that fills up with spires and figures
calling on the only God that understands

what it means to lose a son, see him
vanish, see him
go in the arms, so far too open,
of the wind

and now lower the head

on the bench, on the fleeting light
of rain in the fields

on the window pain that trembles
in the empty compartment

under the eye-lids the fire
that exults and cries
in those large windows

and wears out the gaze until it leaves
on the face only the beginnings.

Chartres e una notizia

Chartres e una notizia

Anche per i bambini che se ne vanno nel buio

e non li puoi trattenere
nemmeno come sangue
amato tra le mani

sta Chartres che si alza contro il cielo

a un\'ora di brutto treno dalla capitale

grande pietra che si riempie di guglie e di figure
chiamando l’unico Dio che capisce

cos’è perdere un figlio, vederlo
sparire, vederlo
andare nelle braccia così troppo aperte
del vento

e adesso buttar giù la testa

sulla panca, sulla luce
fuggente di pioggia nei campi

sul finestrino che trema
nel vagone vuoto

sotto le palpebre il fuoco
che esulta e piange
in quelle grandi vetrate

e che consuma lo sguardo fino a lasciarne
sul viso solo gli inizi.
Close

Chartres and the news

Also for the children who go away in the dark

and you can’t hold them back
not even as blood
beloved between your hands

lies Chartres which rises against the sky

an hour of ugly train from the capital

great rock that fills up with spires and figures
calling on the only God that understands

what it means to lose a son, see him
vanish, see him
go in the arms, so far too open,
of the wind

and now lower the head

on the bench, on the fleeting light
of rain in the fields

on the window pain that trembles
in the empty compartment

under the eye-lids the fire
that exults and cries
in those large windows

and wears out the gaze until it leaves
on the face only the beginnings.

Chartres and the news

Also for the children who go away in the dark

and you can’t hold them back
not even as blood
beloved between your hands

lies Chartres which rises against the sky

an hour of ugly train from the capital

great rock that fills up with spires and figures
calling on the only God that understands

what it means to lose a son, see him
vanish, see him
go in the arms, so far too open,
of the wind

and now lower the head

on the bench, on the fleeting light
of rain in the fields

on the window pain that trembles
in the empty compartment

under the eye-lids the fire
that exults and cries
in those large windows

and wears out the gaze until it leaves
on the face only the beginnings.
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