TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN BY PATRICK WILLIAMSON

I.

the grey days are lakes
when nothing but rain

a soggy air soaks
the roots the yield of trees
without a complaint

suddenly presses
where is the water

where the water
profanes the walls

II.

among these shadows the step
is stale bread under
the crust            come true

the outrage of the swamp

it is always night before
time                   in time

in the neck of stones

(it is always night
the gestation of light)

III.

the constellations laugh
at our glances at the heavens
at San Lorenzo

that desire
one-off of the origin

the illusion of falling
disguised by light

here laws do not measure
infinity has no shores

courage             is beyond
consolation of the visible

IV.

an uninhabited body
with no door a broken roof

the shadow distracted
by water ripples

even sun on the cathedrals
timeless now

Cassandra is a precise
point at every latitude

V.

we sail by sight
among the trunks of pines

like sheer mangroves
deep in lakes

the discovery in the well
is a tomb chorus

the geomancy a chapter
filed

VI.

the idea of separation
(keeps us comfortable)

is a black lake
laps motionless feet

on the shore we deny concentric
circles                         the measure

the sinking of stone

double                    the trine
that contains

but the ego falls headlong
not burdened by detachment

in practice
the pure surface

 

Also, Read Selected Poems From Sovraliminale By Francesca Del Moro, Translated From The Italian By Patrick Williamson and published in The Antonym:

Selected Poems from Sovraliminale— Francesca Del Moro

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