Gedicht
Milo De Angelis
The gate opened, it was eleven
The gate opened, it was eleven,you came here every night, you went beyond the limit
of pain and rested on that same
bench, you rested and you were the arcadia
of your hands, and your being was that shadow, that
ageless place.
© Translation: 2005, Patrizio Ceccagnoli and Susan Stewart
The gate opened, it was eleven
Il cancello si apriva, erano le undici,
venivi qui ogni sera, varcavi il limite
del dolore e riposavi su un’intatta
panchina, riposavi ed eri l’arcadia
delle tue mani, quell’essere ombra, quel
luogo senza età.
venivi qui ogni sera, varcavi il limite
del dolore e riposavi su un’intatta
panchina, riposavi ed eri l’arcadia
delle tue mani, quell’essere ombra, quel
luogo senza età.
© 2005, Milo De Angelis
From: Tema dell\'addio
Publisher: Mondadori, Milan
From: Tema dell\'addio
Publisher: Mondadori, Milan
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The gate opened, it was eleven
Il cancello si apriva, erano le undici,venivi qui ogni sera, varcavi il limite
del dolore e riposavi su un’intatta
panchina, riposavi ed eri l’arcadia
delle tue mani, quell’essere ombra, quel
luogo senza età.
From: Tema dell\'addio
The gate opened, it was eleven
The gate opened, it was eleven,you came here every night, you went beyond the limit
of pain and rested on that same
bench, you rested and you were the arcadia
of your hands, and your being was that shadow, that
ageless place.
© 2005, Patrizio Ceccagnoli and Susan Stewart
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