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POETRY

LANGUAGES – Poetry by Bei Dao

LANGUAGES Many languages are spoken, now, in this world. Soaring words, meet, meet, collide, they create sparks, sometimes hate, sometimes love. Higher the rise of rationality, but without sinking voice, with thoughts fragile and lightweight, bamboo tablets. A woven basket filled with blind poisonous mushrooms, those beasts painted on the rock we trample flowers galoppandoci above, but a head secret …

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A MAN IN A WOMAN: Renaissance poetry of Michelangelo Buonarroti

A MAN IN A WOMAN   A man in a woman, even one god, for his mouth speaks, so I have to listen to this fact, I never will be mine. I should think so, much as I am, I was taken away from her, out of myself, have pity on me; yes above the vain desire spurs me her …

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THAT CONSTRAINT: Renaissance poetry, by Vittoria Colonna

THAT CONSTRAINT That constraint where my happy fate to the will of Heaven tied me, to my great sorrow was dissolved by the cruel death. The suffering was so heavy and hard to bear that suddenly has deleted all my joy and, if it were not for the reason that finally won, I would have made my life short. But …

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ONCE AGAIN: Renaissance poetry, by Isabella Morra

ONCE AGAIN Here again, the valley of hell, alpine river, steep mountains, spirits without any virtue, you will hear my cry and my eternal pain. Each mote I hear, every cave, wherever I stop me, wherever moving steps, because the lot, which is always changing and always increases my eternal evil. And while I lament day and night, wild animals, …

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NOT EXPRESS THE LOVE: Poetry, by William Blake

NOT EXPRESS LOVE Not express love, the real one is always ascoso; It is a breath that moves silent, mysterious. I said, my great love my heart was opened, with fears horrendous, cold ah, trembling, she fled. As it was far from me a traveler lifted it, silent, mysterious: she sighed and conquered. (William Blake)  

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THE GARDEN OF LOVE: Poetry, by William Blake

THE GARDEN OF LOVE In The Garden of Love, one day I went, And I saw a thing never seen before: a chapel erected in the center lawn, where I used to play. It was well bolted gates. “Thou shalt not”, it was written on the threshold; I turned to the Garden of Love me, that many flowers it had …

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ANXIOUSLY STATUES: Poetry, by William Blake

ANXIOUSLY STATUES “Rather choke a child in the cradle, which cradle of unfulfilled desires.” Anxious statues of blood dressed in clothes, and tied for a moment, in the first light of Trafalgar Square, quietly exchanging promises, questions, complaints and cries. Mocking slogans of forbidden love, none of them laments that they would like to be happy, dares to show himself …

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DREAM: Poetry, by Anna Andreevna Akhmatova

DREAM   Black and hard detachment that I stand as thou. Why do you cry? Give me  better to hand, promise to return in a dream. We are like two mountains, We not meet again in this world. If only, when midnight comes, you send me a greeting with the stars. (Anna Andreevna Akhmatova) http://www.amazon.it/Selected-Poems-Anna-Andreevna-Akhmatova/dp/0002710412

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GUITAR: Poetry by Nina Nikolaevna Berberova

GUITAR In the hour before the evening, in the fog of old streets, sometimes we meet the forgotten sound of a guitar. They opened the door of a dance hall? Or someone at the window kissing a beautiful woman? On this paved, it echoes like a long time, ancient longing for happiness and hope. Another time the sounds, in the …

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YOU COVER THE SUN TO ME UP IN HEAVEN: Poetry, by Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva

YOU COVER THE SUN TO ME UP IN HEAVEN You cover me the sun in the heavens above, all the stars in the hollow of your hand! Ah, if they open the doors! As wind, I would enter into you! And stammer, blush and anger, and abruptly bowing the gaze, and, sobbing, quiet down, as in childhood, when they forgive. …

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