KR OnlinePoetryTranslation

Two Poems

from Giocavo all’ala (peQuod, 2004)

Translated from Italian by Simone Dubrovic

[I can never get my bearings]

I can never get my bearings
on those mornings so luminous,
and now that Spring has come,
with eyes half closed I drag myself
from one room to another,
up the walkway
to the skylight,
sniffing the air
almost like a bewildered little beast
in search of your clothes, your stockings,
your strictly no-heel shoes,
and I think of how vain my escaping is
to come back contracted,
wet with nothingness
to the bone,
if I cannot get
just one centimeter beyond
the colorful cotton spools
you left on the old Singer,
the little boxes overflowing with buttons.


[On the balcony, the outside]

On the balcony, the outside
of another pitiless April,
it seemed to me—just for a moment—
you were back to help
hang the washed sheets;
today the wind blows in from the sea
the curtains fly
and the house spins around me,
almost like a carousel, and overturns:
floors feel like ceilings
walls with paintings and books
floors—all of it upside down,
even my life wandering among the clouds
and bluffs as I run up
the stairs to the loft, to the roof,
to the attic porthole . . . will there be,
I ask you, a precise hooking
point or platform
from where to take off
to stay with you?
Will a curtain be enough?
A sheet?