By FLAVIO FERRARO.
Translated into English by Elena Buia Rutt.
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1. I know, there is greater glory
than a stalk, and greater
mysteries the forest conceals
than this maiden acorn.
But I have no desire
to rage at that caterpillar
(“the lowest the least the detail”)
neglected by philosophers,
it which instead was the purest –
the ephemeral one which did not want
to grow, to betray like everyone else.
•
Lo so, c’è gloria maggiore
di uno stelo, e più grandi
misteri cela il bosco
di questa nubile ghianda.
Però non ho voglia
di infierire su quel bruco
(“l’infimo il minimo il dettaglio”)
trascurato dai filosofi,
lui che invece era il più puro –
l’effimero che non volle
crescere, tradire come tutti.
•
2.Enduring things you ask me,
never disappointed by the embrace:
words that resound,
exhausted,
in the oracles’ silence.
You know, you walk
by habit, you don’t go
where you arrive.
Cose durevoli mi chiedi,
mai deluse dall’abbraccio:
parole che risuonano,
stremate, nel silenzio
degli oracoli.
Sai, si cammina
per abitudine, non si va
dove si giunge.
•
3.What word to keep silent?
The one torn from the warp
of the winds, forgetful of itself,
like frost in a dreamy
winter?
Or loosened in the vivid
white, quiet in its disappearance,
its extreme fading?
You see, those colours
over there show we are safe,
while around us
everything deserts.
Quale parola tacere?
Quella strappata all’ordire
dei vènti, dimentica di sé,
come brina in un inverno
trasognato?
O disciolta nel vivido
bianco, quieta in sua sparizione,
sua estrema dissolvenza?
Vedi, quei colori
laggiù ci dicono salvi,
mentre intorno a noi
tutto diserta.
•
4.The Myth is always true.
The river flows, but is not:
what remains
is the source.
So the narrow Gate,
the Tree of golden fruit,
the Sword-bridge
were never,
but are always.
Motionless
in the current.
Il Mito è sempre vero.
Il fiume scorre, ma non è:
ciò che permane
è la sorgente.
Così la Porta stretta,
l’Albero dai frutti d’oro,
il Ponte periglioso
non furono mai,
ma sono sempre.
Immoti
nella corrente.
♦
FLAVIO FERRARO was born in Rome in 1984. A poet, an essayist, an expert in metaphysical doctrines and a translator, he writes articles for several online newspapers and magazines. Among his volumes of poetry: Sulla soglia oscura (La Camera Verde, Roma 2010); Da un estremo margine (La Camera Verde, Roma 2012); La direzione del tramonto (Oèdipus, Salerno 2013); and La luce immutabile (La Camera Verde, Roma 2019). His entire poetic production is collected in Il silenzio degli oracoli (L’Arcolaio, Forlimpopoli 2021). His translation of John Keats’ Odes was published in 2021 (Delta 3, Grottaminarda 2021). Among his non-fiction works is La malvagità del bene: Il progressismo e la parodia della tradizione (Irfan, San Demetrio Corone 2019). His article Vedere l’invisibile: l’arte di Alessandra Maxàculi – dedicated to the Greek-Italian artist’s work – has been included in the catalogue of the Eccentrici e solitary exhibition, held in the town of Sutri (Viterbo) in the Museum of Palazzo Doebbing and curated by Vittorio Sgarbi. In addition, his poems and his translations of Keats, Shelley and Dylan Thomas, just to mention a few, have been published on paper and in online magazines. His poems have been translated into English, Arabic and Spanish. La luce immutabile (The immutable light) was published in 2021 by L’Arcolaio, in the volume Il silenzio degli oracoli.
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ELENA BUIA RUTT is a poet, translator and literary critic who holds degrees in Philosophy and Literature, and an MA in Journalism. As journalist, she contributes to cultural programs on Italian television and national newspapers. With her husband, Andrew Rutt, she translated poems by Rowan Williams, poems by Mary Oliver and Flannery O’Connor’s Prayer Journal. Her first book of poems, Ti stringo la mano mentre dormi, was published in 2012; Il mio cuore è un asino, appeared in 2015, followed by La sete, in 2020.
