THE HILL > I have come this far on my own legs, missing the bus, missing taxis, climbing always. One foot in front of the other, that is the way I do it. It does not bother me, the way the hill goes on. Grass beside the road, a tree rattling its black leaves. So what? The longer I walk, the farther I am from everything. One foot in front of the other. The hours pass. One foot in front of the other. The years pass. The colors of arrival fade. That is the way I do it.
LA COLLINA > Sono arrivato fin qui con le mie gambe, perso l’autobus, persi i taxi, sempre in salita. Un piede avanti all’altro, è così che faccio. Non mi inquieta, la collina di cui non vedo fine. Erba sul ciglio della strada, un albero che fa risuonare le foglie nere. E allora? Più cammino, più mi allontano da tutto. Un piede avanti all’altro. Passano le ore. Un piede avanti all’altro. Passano gli anni. I colori dell’arrivo sbiadiscono. È così che faccio.
(Mark Strand)
http://www.amazon.it/Collected-Poems-Mark-Strand/dp/0385352514
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