Τρίτη, 15 Μαρτίου 2016

Nobody, Not Even the Rain


I know that someday you'll be sleeping, darling
Likely dreaming off the pain
I hope you'll hear me in the streetlights humming
Softly breathing out your name
I know that even with the seams stitched tightly, darling
Scars will remain
I say we scrape them from each other, darling
And let them wash off in the rain
And when they run into the river
Oh no, let the water not complain
I swear that even with the distance slowly
Wearing out your name
Your hands still catch the light the right way
And our hearts still beat the same
And our hearts still beat the same
La Dispute


Δευτέρα, 14 Μαρτίου 2016

Such Small Hands


I think I saw you in my sleep, darling
I think I saw you in my dreams you were
Stitching up the seams on every broken promise
That your body couldn't keep
I think I saw you in my sleep

I thought I heard the door open, oh no
I thought I heard the door open but
I only heard it close

I thought I heard a plane crashing, but
Now I think it was your passion snapping

I think you saw me confronting my fear, it
Went up with a bottle and went down with the beer and
I think you ought to stay away from here
There are ghosts in the walls and they
Crawl in your head through your ear

I think I saw you in my sleep, lover
I think I saw you in my dreams you were
Stitching up the seams on every mangled promise
That your body couldn't keep
I think I saw you in my sleep
 La Dispute


Κυριακή, 13 Μαρτίου 2016

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
E. E. Cummings 

Κυριακή, 6 Μαρτίου 2016

Pagliacci


Vesti la giubba                             Put on the costume

Recitar! Mentre preso dal delirio,
non so più quel che dico,
e quel che faccio!
Eppur è d'uopo, sforzati!
Bah! Sei tu forse un uom?
Tu se' Pagliaccio!

Vesti la giubba e la faccia infarina.
La gente paga, e rider vuole qua.
E se Arlecchin t'invola Colombina,
ridi, Pagliaccio, e ognun applaudirà!
Tramuta in lazzi lo spasmo ed il pianto
in una smorfia il singhiozzo e 'l dolor, Ah!

Ridi, Pagliaccio,
sul tuo amore infranto!
Ridi del duol, che t'avvelena il cor!
Act! While in delirium,
I no longer know what I say,
or what I do!
And yet it's necessary... make an effort!
Bah! Are you not a man?
You are a clown!

Put on your costume, powder your face.
The people pay to be here, and they want to laugh.
And if Harlequin shall steal your Columbina,
laugh, clown, so the crowd will cheer!
Turn your distress and tears into jest,
your pain and sobbing into a funny face – Ah!

Laugh, clown,
at your broken love!
Laugh at the grief that poisons your heart!