Piergiorgio Viti, ITALY
cenotaph
the biopolitics of time
The Poems
I wanted to write for you
a love poem,
but it was too bad.
But as well as
a love poem
comes badly, it’s not like
loving you no longer.
Let’s think to such many things,
even done with love,
they came badly:
sometimes ago
I tried to cook
risotto agli asparagi,
you said “that’s good”,
whether you didn’t think so.
Or
that time I gave you a present
you didn’t like,
you still said:
“This is really what I need!”.
So, please, accept
the way I love you
without finding right words,
it will be like a zipper
not closing anything,
but it holds
for ever and ever
something.
*
Volevo scrivere per te
una poesia d’amore,
ma mi è venuta male.
Ma non è che
se una poesia d’amore
viene male,
io non ti ami.
Pensa a quante cose,
anche se fatte con amore,
mi sono venute male:
una volta
ho provato a cucinare
il risotto agli asparagi,
hai detto “è buono”,
anche se non lo pensavi davvero.
Oppure
quando ti ho fatto un regalo
che non ti piaceva,
tu hai comunque detto:
“Questo proprio mi mancava”.
Allora accetta pure
il mio volerti bene
senza trovare le parole,
sarà come una cerniera lampo
che non chiude nulla
ma che tiene unito
per sempre,
qualcosa.
* * *
You, from behind the window glass,
in the terrace light
you’re looking for something in the dark.
Lost among the kitchen crockery
I leave you to your musings,
within that tenuous light
that bathed you in purity,
slightly fading your countenence
alien, suddenly fallen
from other dimensions. From the glowing
of inaccessible planets.
Then, “what are you watching
there outside,” I questioned
while I was polishing
the oval lips of the drinking glasses
and you, almost in a Zen-like silence,
“a gecko,” you whispered.
A gecko.
Searching all evening long
among the foliage of basil
and of of the gardenias
a gecko, ages of prehistory
alive within his scales
in his eyes possessed with spirits.
And there, there you remained
so that something may come to be,
so that the ancient past,
if only for a split second,
might fold itself into
the soap bubble of your present.
*
Tu, dietro la finestra,
con la luce della terrazza
accesa,
scrutavi nel buio qualcosa.
Perso tra le stoviglie della cucina,
io ti lasciavo fare,
dietro quella luce tenue
che ti immacolava,
ti sbiadiva appena il volto
forestiero, precipitato
da altre dimensioni. Da altre luci
di pianeti remoti.
Poi, “cosa stai guardando,
là fuori”, ho domandato,
mentre facevo scintillare
l’ovale dei bicchieri
e tu, quasi in un silenzio zen,
“un geco” hai sussurrato.
Un geco.
Tutta la sera a cercare
tra le foglie del basilico
e della gardenia
un geco, con la preistoria
viva nelle sue squame,
nei suoi occhi spiritati.
E lì, lì sei rimasta,
perché qualcosa si avverasse,
perché la preistoria
almeno per un attimo
potesse incrociare
la bolla di sapone del tuo presente…
The Poet
Piergiorgio Viti lives in Italy, where he is a middle school teacher. His poems are translated into 4 languages. In 2010, his critical intervention was published for the catalog, also translated into Mandarin Chinese. In 2011 he published the first poetic collection. He also wrote for the theater: “The fable of Virginio and Virgilio” with famous singer Tosca as protag-onist and “Ray’s dreams” (dedicated to Ray Charles) with an important actor as Carlo Di Maio. He went on stage in the theater as author and acting voice for “The voice of man”, a tribute to the song-writer Sergio Endrigo. He also translated “The Preludes” by Alphonse de Lamartine with a reading by Ugo Pagliai and Paola Gassmann for “Armonie della Sera” festival. In 2016 he was part, together with other poets and writers, of the photographic-editorial project “Memory Card” (Hacca Edizioni). In 2017, his contribution came out for a “Small inquiry into provincialism” .In 2019 he published the third poetic book. In 2020, he was the only Italian to participate in the international project “Infusions poétiques” by the artist Cécile A. Holdban, with 173 other poets from around the world.
Leave a Reply