Poem
Stefano Dal Bianco
Plane tree
I went out to walk towards this sea, but I must deny thisbecause I had gone out and in reality almost immediately
I met a plane tree and am stuck with writing about it,
though writing is more than telling,
and telling is already difficult,
though the difficulty is going back in
to write about the plane tree
to tell about the plane tree
without having it in front of me,
trying to remember,
betraying in recollecting as if it did not exist, really
plane tree of branches and leaves in the light.
How to forget it
Describe it, accepting the metaphors, perfectly sufficient, apparently indifferent but
alive with its gaze, dead from its splendor, of the evil that makes them different and
lucid of itself. And my compliments to the plane tree and goodbye to the walk, of he
who for a moment believed to have seen it and has forgotten it.
Rebuild it as new
Return to the lawn as if looking for something that is no longer a tree, no more a tree
than me or you who read me and are not on the lawn, and imagine this tree without
love, without any reservations of reality.
Ask you to come without fixing appointments,
ask together absent-mindedly
with the sole energy that we are allowed
for a free spot on the lawn, in front of the sea,
not far from the room where all is told.
© Translation: 2004, Gabriele Poole
Platano
Platano
Sono uscito a camminare verso il mare, ma devo negarloperché ero uscito e in realtà quasi subito
ho incontrato un platano e mi tocca di scriverlo,
anche se scrivere è di più che raccontare,
anche se raccontare è già difficile,
anche se il difficile è rientrare
a scrivere del platano,
a raccontare il platano
senza averlo davanti,
cercando di ricordare,
tradendo nel ricordo come se lui non esistesse, veramente
platano di rami e foglie nella luce.
Come dimenticarlo
Descriverlo, accettare le metafore, perfettamente sufficienti, indifferenti in apparenza
ma vive del suo sguardo, morte del suo splendore, del male che le fa differenti e lucide
di sé. E complimenti al platano e addio alla passeggiata, di chi per un momento ha
creduto di vederlo e l’ha dimenticato.
Ricostruirlo come nuovo
Ritornare sul prato come in cerca di qualcosa che non è più albero,
non più albero di me e di te che mi leggi e non stai sul prato,
e senza amore immagini quest’albero, senza riserve di realtà.
Chiederti di venire senza fissare appuntamenti,
chiedere insieme distrattamente
con la sola energia che ci è concessa
un posto libero nel prato, di fronte al mare,
non lontano dalla stanza dove tutto è raccontato.
© 2001, Stefano Dal Bianco
From: Ritorno a Planaval
Publisher: Mondadori, Milano
From: Ritorno a Planaval
Publisher: Mondadori, Milano
Poems
Poems of Stefano Dal Bianco
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Plane tree
I went out to walk towards this sea, but I must deny thisbecause I had gone out and in reality almost immediately
I met a plane tree and am stuck with writing about it,
though writing is more than telling,
and telling is already difficult,
though the difficulty is going back in
to write about the plane tree
to tell about the plane tree
without having it in front of me,
trying to remember,
betraying in recollecting as if it did not exist, really
plane tree of branches and leaves in the light.
How to forget it
Describe it, accepting the metaphors, perfectly sufficient, apparently indifferent but
alive with its gaze, dead from its splendor, of the evil that makes them different and
lucid of itself. And my compliments to the plane tree and goodbye to the walk, of he
who for a moment believed to have seen it and has forgotten it.
Rebuild it as new
Return to the lawn as if looking for something that is no longer a tree, no more a tree
than me or you who read me and are not on the lawn, and imagine this tree without
love, without any reservations of reality.
Ask you to come without fixing appointments,
ask together absent-mindedly
with the sole energy that we are allowed
for a free spot on the lawn, in front of the sea,
not far from the room where all is told.
© 2004, Gabriele Poole
From: Ritorno a Planaval
From: Ritorno a Planaval
Plane tree
I went out to walk towards this sea, but I must deny thisbecause I had gone out and in reality almost immediately
I met a plane tree and am stuck with writing about it,
though writing is more than telling,
and telling is already difficult,
though the difficulty is going back in
to write about the plane tree
to tell about the plane tree
without having it in front of me,
trying to remember,
betraying in recollecting as if it did not exist, really
plane tree of branches and leaves in the light.
How to forget it
Describe it, accepting the metaphors, perfectly sufficient, apparently indifferent but
alive with its gaze, dead from its splendor, of the evil that makes them different and
lucid of itself. And my compliments to the plane tree and goodbye to the walk, of he
who for a moment believed to have seen it and has forgotten it.
Rebuild it as new
Return to the lawn as if looking for something that is no longer a tree, no more a tree
than me or you who read me and are not on the lawn, and imagine this tree without
love, without any reservations of reality.
Ask you to come without fixing appointments,
ask together absent-mindedly
with the sole energy that we are allowed
for a free spot on the lawn, in front of the sea,
not far from the room where all is told.
© 2004, Gabriele Poole
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