Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Paolo Ruffilli

ON YOUR THROAT

The gentle curve of the throat
when you say a word,
the shadow on your breast and
the outline of the hand
sliding up your side,
that incarnate whiteness
almost lost
in a pattern of fine lines.
The smallest feature, but pure,
prints linked in a segment:
form, colour consistent.
Only the detail,
on becoming the object
and the fixed place
of our senses
creates a present
and not less fleeting
nor lost nor futile
the instinct to oppose
an inner quality to time
and pretend for a moment
the world is eternal
before the trail
escapes you and
is lost in the deep.

Sulla tua gola

Sulla tua gola

La lieve curva della gola
nel pronunciare una parola,
l\'ombra sul petto e
il taglio della mano
che sale lungo il fianco,
quel bianco incarnato
sfumato appena
in un ventaglio
di smagliature.
Tratti minimi, sia pure,
punti legati in un segmento:
forma colore consistenza.
Solo il dettaglio,
nel farsi oggetto
e luogo circoscritto
ai nostri sensi,
rende presente
e non più astratto
né più evanescente
o spento e vano
l\'istinto a opporre
al tempo un\'immanenza
fingendosi un istante
eterno il mondo
prima che la traccia
slitti via
cadendo a fondo.
Close

ON YOUR THROAT

The gentle curve of the throat
when you say a word,
the shadow on your breast and
the outline of the hand
sliding up your side,
that incarnate whiteness
almost lost
in a pattern of fine lines.
The smallest feature, but pure,
prints linked in a segment:
form, colour consistent.
Only the detail,
on becoming the object
and the fixed place
of our senses
creates a present
and not less fleeting
nor lost nor futile
the instinct to oppose
an inner quality to time
and pretend for a moment
the world is eternal
before the trail
escapes you and
is lost in the deep.

ON YOUR THROAT

The gentle curve of the throat
when you say a word,
the shadow on your breast and
the outline of the hand
sliding up your side,
that incarnate whiteness
almost lost
in a pattern of fine lines.
The smallest feature, but pure,
prints linked in a segment:
form, colour consistent.
Only the detail,
on becoming the object
and the fixed place
of our senses
creates a present
and not less fleeting
nor lost nor futile
the instinct to oppose
an inner quality to time
and pretend for a moment
the world is eternal
before the trail
escapes you and
is lost in the deep.
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