Life

Matteo, Davide, Gian Domenico, Roberto, Antonio e Massimiliano

Posted in new, poetry by raffack on September 17, 2009

CuoreIn this, the uniform
of your soldier, I rest
as if
it were the cradle
of my father

Ungaretti, Italy

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poet

Posted in new, poetry by raffack on September 15, 2009

The poet arrives there
and returns to the light with his songs
and scatters them
Of this poetry
I have left
that inexhaustible secret
nothing.

Ungaretti

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August evening

Posted in new, poetry by martalorenza on August 23, 2009

azzurro

 

And the old woman sits
Upon the steps among her neighbors, spinning,
Turning herself to where the day goes down;

The sky takes on a deeper blue, and shadows fall
Cast by the roofs and hills
Beneath the whiteness of the rising moon. 

 

 

Leopardi, da Saturday evening in the village

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Lagerkvist

Posted in poetry by martalorenza on August 17, 2009

My friend is a stranger, someone I do not know.

A stranger far, far away

For his sake my heart is full of disquiet

Because he is not with me

Because, perhaps, after all he does not exist?

Who are you who so fill my heart with your absence?

Who fill the entire world with your absence?

 

Par Lagerkvist, Evening Land (Aftonland)

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