And when the lord, paying careful attention, heard these things accurately repre- sented, he was astounded beyond measure, and was struck with great fear. Add to this that while the two servants were talking together in hell, he asked the shade, who appeared very well off and sumptu- ously dressed, if those who were richly attired were aflicted by any torment. The shade responded that they suffered one of the worst punishments: Wishing to prove his words, the man reached out his hand toward the purple garment.
Although the shade warned him not to touch it, the man could not help himself and burned the palm of his hand from the burst of heat it gave off. He showed the lord his burned hand where he had touched the smoldering purple. In fact, his hand was almost entirely consumed, covered in raw scabs, as if made by a holy ire. The guards who heard him also reported, according to Ales- sandri, that since he had come back from hell, he behaved as if he were possessed.
He lacked much of his senses of hearing and sight, and he was always deep in thought and rarely spoke. He was barely able to answer those who repeated questions to him. Upon return he had such a dark face and ugly appearance, that though he once was easily recognized by his wife and children, he became so dif- ferent after he returned from hell — so horrible in both his face and his whole body — that they could hardly believe he was the same man. And seeing him so horribly disigured, his relatives and as- sociates would speak to him with tears in their eyes.
He barely had any time to put his things in order and provide for his children and descendents before his death, which followed very quickly. They did not see any houses or villas or any kind of dwellings at all, but just woods, cliffs, and ravines, where the great solitude was in itself enough to frighten them. Successe a Gregorio quinto. Costui hebbe prima nome Gilberto Francese e fu incantatore. In the distance, though, they seemed to hear a human voice, so they went toward the sound, believing that they might meet up with someone who could help them ind their way again.
Suddenly on a nearby knoll they saw the likenesses of three men, terrifying and much larger than normal with long black clothes like scoundrels, very long hair and beards, and vicious faces. These igures called to the two men with words and gestures, and when the men were about to approach them, they showed themselves to be even larger than was natural. Beyond them, the men also saw another one with the same look, except that he was entirely naked. He jumped around and made a thousand frightening gestures, seeming about to jump on the two travelers and strangle them.
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Out of fear, the two terriied men led, taking off along a path that was steep and uneven. He was an enchanter. Their pact was that after his death he would belong entirely to the devil, whose tricks had helped him to acquire a dignity so lofty. When he was still hoping to rule, Gilberto had asked the devil how much time he would live as Pope, and the enemy of humanity answered him ambiguously as is his wont: He was moved to repent and there before all the people, confessing his error, he encouraged them irst to set aside ambition and the tricks of the devil and live good and holy lives.
Dicesi, che dopo la sua morte apparve in una solitudine a un certo vescovo, sopra un caval nero. Tenne il Papato due anni e sette mesi. They say that by the will and providence of God so that the wicked understand that God will pardon them every time they seek pen- ance during their lives , the horses of their own accord went to St. John Lateran, and there his body was buried. It is said that after his death, he appeared on a black horse to a certain bishop who was alone.
That bishop asked him why he was riding that black horse, since he was dead. He told him where he had buried a treasure and begged him to go get that money and dispense it in his name to the poor out of love of God. He said this because the alms that he had given when he could do so were to no avail because that money was gained by stealing. Gregory VI held the Papacy two years and seven months. Hav- ing been called a simoniac, a bloodthirsty man, and a murderer by some people, and even by cardinals, he was so offended that he fell gravely ill. On the point of death, he summoned the cardinals to him and upbraided them with sharp words, saying that they were wrong for slandering him out of envy, because what he did was just and holy.
If the doors God-willing should open, then you should bury me as beits a Christian. If not, then you will cast my body — damned together with my soul — wherever you please. So his body was taken inside the church and was held in saintly reverence. Because while he lived he always won in battle, after his death on various occasions he continued to intervene in the victories and triumphs of his soldiers.
They continued to erect his pavilion as if he were still alive and arrayed his insignias around him. Then they would look for a sign. In this way, taking their advice from a dead man, they happily conducted their mili- tary actions. He has published a number of trans- lations and his own poetry through Guernica Editions and other presses. His most recent book is Looters, Photographers, and Thieves: Verdicchio has taught literature, ilm and writing at the University of California, San Diego, since Began her writing career early, publishing a collection of poems, Ginestra in iore, at the age of Modena, Tipograia Modenese, Roma, Cultura sociale, Bologna, Tecnograia emiliana, Una storia di ragazze.
Milano, Del Duca, Mia madre era secca come la canna, mio padre tremava per le terzane. Quando piangevo, la ninna nanna me la cantavano le rane. Risaia amara, risaia ingrate: Terra amata, fatica dura, tu ci portasti a sepoltura. Cantata di una giovane mondina viva Mondine, mondine, cuore della risaia. My mother was as thin as a reed, my father shivered from malaria. When I cried the frogs sang my lullabies. Bitter rice paddy, thankless paddy: The paddy was that way through the door: The sun shone broken on the dead water enriched the living plant.
They cheated me in my salary, they cheated me when counting my hours: Loved land, hard labor, you led us to our burial. My father fell one morning in the yard, and he did not believe in heaven. And I never had the chance to see the lag that is changing our fortunes. My dear father, my dear mother I am down here for thirty days. Just arrived and I am already tired: Si mangia male, si beve a stento: Eppure, mamma sono tanto contenta di essere andata per questa strada. Mondine, mondine, amore della risaia.
Sono, al tramonto, una bestia stracca che si butta dove le tocca. Paglia nuda e itti respire nel camerone con tante zanzare: Mondine, mondine, dolore della risaia. Essi hanno in terra il paradise, noi camminiamo per bruschi sentieri. Essi son pochi e noi siamo tanti. Non molto giova sentirsi padroni.
Mondine, mondine, iore della risaia. Mio caro padre, mia cara madre: Mondine, mondine, onore della risaia. The food is bad, we hardly drink: Even so, dear mother, I am so happy to have taken this road. Rice gatherers, rice gatherers, love of the paddies. At sundown, I am a tired beast who goes where she is asked.
Naked hay and heavy breath in the large room full of mosquitos: Rice gatherers, rice gatherers, pain of the paddies. Mother, picking rice is wonderful; rice is white and the gentlemen black. Their paradise is here on earth, we walk along rugged paths. But our paths take us forward toward a sweeter season. They are few and we are many. Being masters cannot be a good feeling.
Rice gatherers, rice gatherers, lower of the paddies. I watch the blue of the plain when the stars open on high. It is not work that frightens, of that I am sister and daughter. My dear father, my dear mother: I thank you for your strength. We walk along the only possible road with the dead carrying the lag. Rice gatherers, rice gatherers, honor of the paddies. He is currently at work on a noir novel set in s Los Angeles. She is the author of Io era una bella igura una volta.
Viaggio nella poesia di ricerca del secondo Novecento Scritture Alda Merini was born in Milan on March 21, Her irst works were published in in Antologia della poesia italiana con- temporanea dal al , edited by Giacinto Spagnoletti, who had discovered her talent when she was only Her numerous books are interspersed with long periods of silence as, starting as early as , the poet suffered from numerous bouts of mental illness and was institutionalized several times, spending many years in mental institutions.
Her irst poetry collection, La presenza di Orfeo, was published by Schwarz in During her lifetime, Alda Merini was twice nominated for a Nobel Prize. She died in Milan in Prendi me donna e fanne il tuo ascolto, prendi me pavida e rendimi giusta, prendi me gambo e rendimi iore, per la carezza lieve del dipinto di Apollo che genera Aretusa. Beyond the tree tops unfolded like a lily is the song of the poet; a irely traversing evil like the shadow of a dormant stream. Take this woman and make me your ear, take this scared woman and make me just, take this stalk and make me a lower, for the soft caress of the painting of Apollo generating Arethusa.
The night is that distant pleasure that makes the peaceful sleep of seaweed tremble, that puts to sleep our vital impulse to die. The night is the extreme suffering if you are not here to sow eternal adolescence in my enchantment, in my defeated body. I thirst for the irst blood of a dificult rhyme, a virginity of love letters and monstrous ties with the devil because I live with angels, and with angels I want to retrieve the earth, to touch it, to ind it mine and scriptural.
Mi sento, amore, inseguita da tutti come se queste persone, queste bocche volessero mangiare la mia carne che soffre spasimi di amore e di attesa. Nulla che possa compararsi a un uomo che ti lascia supina con il seme di Bacco nella testa. Love, I feel pursued by all, as if these people, these mouths were to eat my lesh spasmodic with love and desire.
All that is now part of my face, all that clung to my long womanly shape so rounded, demonic, white, repeats in your face the soft cry of these lines, now sickly and now full of health, that health which, self-assured and happy, at last wants to die in your memory. Nothing can be compared to a man who leaves you recumbent, the seed of Bacchus in your head. Invisible beings make love die false infulas shoot upon you: Il giallo Il giallo, una bionda fanciulla, il giallo della menzogna, colore di gelosia, la rabbia dei potenti e la stagione del cuore. There were no gods yet, but dreaming of the temple of Vesta I recognized you.
Yellow Yellow, a blond maiden, the yellow of lies a color of jealousy the rage of the powerful and the season of the heart There are many reasons, friend, still one dies from love. Dimly he saw, still far away, a man coming towards him, looking tough and grim. Morgante looked him over once and twice, and then twice more, from head to toes, and all and queer and ugly his limbs looked to him. But tell me more: And often I believe in butter, too, in beer and—every time I ind it—must, which should be strong and genuine, not weak; yes, above all, in good wine I believe, for those who drink eternal life achieve.
Vuoi tu veder che fede sia la mia? Non credo, se durassi il mondo etterno, si potessi commetter tanti mali quanti ho commessi io solo alla mia vita; ed ho per alfabeto ogni partita. Faith does to men what tickling does to one: Now do you care to know what faith is mine? I was, in Turkey, born of a Greek nun and of a holy pope from Bursia. I learned to play the rebec as a child, for I was dreaming that I would someday Troy, Hector, and Achilles sing in rhyme, and, oh, not once but many a thousand time.
One day, after a quarrel in a mosque wherein my own dear aged pope I slew, across my back I laid this scimitar and took a stroll around the whole wide world: My mortal sins are seventy and seven, which—winter, summer—never leave my sight. You count them if you can! If even this our world should endless be, no one, I swear, commits as many sins as I did in this life of mine commit: I know my trade just like the alphabet.
While I have money and I am at play, whoever wants to join me is my friend. E forse al camuffar ne incaco o bado o non so far la berta o la bertuccia, o in furba o in calca o in bestrica mi lodo? Io so di questo ogni malizia e frodo. La gola ne vien poi drieto a questa arte. Del fegatello non ti dico niente: In this I am the shrewdest specialist. Here your discernment you must use: Of a blood pudding every stage I know: Five stages you can count them it requires: Quanti segreti insino a domattina ti potrei di questa arte rivelare!
Io fui ostiere alcun tempo in Egina, e volli queste cose disputare. Hundreds of perfect recipes I know, but the most subtle art—believe you me— is how to bake a cake and cook ish tarts. All those who hear admit that I am right: Not even God can later right your wrong.
I in Aegina was innkeeper once, and many a lecture gave about these things. I can plow with camels and with donkeys and with oxen, and have deserved, for this and now for that, dungeon and stake a thousand times and more. I am presumptuous, demanding, bold, and relatives and strangers I love not. Long have I parted company with shame, and, chased away, I like a dog come back. I magnify my actions seven times, to which I add a thousand extra rhymes.
If I should say a thousand more or less, be sure I would not be far from the mark. If I by chance into a convent go, out of ive nuns I can drag six outside: What these my hands can reach, you can be sure, needs no support of ladders or of hooks. Several times, with papal miters crowned and brooms upon my back I walked around. But my irst light is to the sacristy: I cherish the cross and chalice I can ind, and all the cruciixes I strip clean, with all the saints and Marys I have seen. Sempre le brighe compero a contanti. The virtues of theology. God knows if I can forge an entire book!
I tear all pages out, and each of them with letters and with rubrics then I match, and I can change—and you could never tell— title and jacket, marks and name as well. And never, ever think that I may care whose toes I step on: As for blaspheming, no dividing line I make between a human or a saint, and on my calendar I mark them all. For telling lies, let no one boast as much: Not to seem stubborn, every man I beg, and always say the things that hurt one most.
Del resto, come vuoi te ne governa: Io so per ogni parte le vie tutte. Besides, if I start now, I will stop winding this thread at the beginning ofJuly. But let me tell you at the very end: As far as treason, though, watch out or soon in this my clapper—see? I know how to tame beasts inside a fence.
L'ombra dell'ombra
As for the rest, just be as you have been: I know the way to every place on earth. Dunque, Morgante, a tua posta camina. Dicea Morgante quando gli vedea: Tu hai gli spron di drieto! Therefore, Morgante, take me where you wish! For, look, your feet have spurs! Qui si conviene avere altre vivande: Io vidi dianzi un bufol drento entrare: Lascia ordinare a me, se vuoi, il convito. Can you not see how huge my friend is here?
Where do I go for something else? Morgante lost his patience all at once. His clapper he began to use on him, and the innkeeper did not like it much. I will go through the house and search each room. A buffalo I saw as I came in: Margutte tore a beam of the roof down, and to the mumbling host had this to say: And do you think he bothered skinning it? He only split its body right in two. Like an old broom he made himself at home: Somewhere he found a rather lengthy board, and there the table instantly was set. Io fo per casa come il topolino: And so they ate the buffalo entire, three basketfuls of bread and even more, and drank enormously.
All this has been too little for two men. Well, something else will do Stay here a tiny bit till I come back. Meanwhile, you wait on him most generously! See that this giant never asks for wine, or he will straighten up your crooked bones. So let me now be like a little mouse: Of cheese and fruit he a big bundle found, and brought them to Morgante in a sack: Morgante went to ind a rick of straw, and leaned against it like an elephant.
Nature, I so believe, made only one. The host replied that not for thirty miles around would they see any house or manger— a three-day journey not devoid of danger. Margutte was not deaf and, hearing this, thought out a plan of wickedness at once. But now, to bed! If I am not mistaken, I saw one, but with no saddle and no yoke, it seemed. I know you do not have a bed for me where I may it and stretch out comfortably. Come arai tu moneta da cambiarci qualche dobbra da spender per la via? And would you have enough to change for us some doubles we may spend along the road?
Someone may steal it. Say, would you, for another coin or two, bring me some butter? As ointment it would do. Io sono ito e tornato, e tu il vedrai. Tu hai pur fatto, per Dio, netto e presto. And I will warn this entire family to save themselves from such calamity. Now learn this newest Greek deceit! Alone, Margutte, by the candlelight, pretended, then, to tie himself most tight, and Mr. Sleep bade inally good night. Margutte, hearing everybody snore, took everything he found around the house: I have been there and back, as you will see. You have been faster than I thought, God knows.
Morgante le mascella ha sgangherate per le risa talvolta che gli abbonda, e dicea pure: Costui pur mena almen la mazza tonda. People began to come from everywhere: By God, his noose has waited long enough. This is an art I always knew. Sleep had wanted to retire, doubtless by now awakened by the ire. Splitting his sides with laughter at his words and how he laughed when some details he heard!
Be patient if some more you have to wait. At least this rogue spares no one as he works. Orlando will be pleased to meet this man— if ever I will see him once again. Or mi piacesti tu, Margutte mio! Non vedi tu, babbion, che si tramuta e sgombera qua presso a un castello? Vedi che mancan qui le cose tutte. If steal you must, no predatory hawk or gypsy or Arab you need, other than me. For all you ever steal, be grateful never! For the irst time you see me, man, so clever. There is no malice that is not my mate. I do my very best to shun a bruise, and then the red with yellow I confuse.
Sleep of the inn. You are a bigger animal than this. Because of the long journey they were very hungry, but neither wine nor bread had they. You see, Margutte, nothing is in view. My words do not come out as quick and clear unless I wet my mouth a little bit. It seems a place where water can be found. Quando Margutte il vide sfavillare, disse: From far away a unicorn appeared, in search of rills to slake his thirst.
I think that unicorn is coming here to drink. Hide and stay hidden till he gets down here and quenches with his thirst our hunger, too. How handy is that lame! I always use my weapons as I choose. Allor Morgante ridendo favella: Cosse la bestia, e pongonsi poi a cena: Per Dio, tu mangeresti una balena! Io rido che tu vai leccando il legno. Set was the table long live the innkeeper! The beast was cooked, and they sat down to sup. Morgante gulped down nearly all of it, so that Margutte hardly tasted it. By God, you could devour an entire whale! This throat of yours is never sated, eh?
In everything I want you as a mate except when we sit down before a plate. E la cammella si pasceva intorno. So let me tell you now, once and for all: I want my share, down to a fennel stalk, even if I have to split a ig with you, or but a chestnut or a mouse or frog! But now just poke the ire, which is dead. Now since each song contests a previous one, what followed next will be in my next rhyme: Our Father we shall praise in the meantime. He briely attended Harvard University in the early s, then published three books of verse the irst two at his own expense and the third subsidized by friends between and As a result, Robinson gained fame and a government sinecure and thereafter wrote copiously and published frequently, winning an unprecedented three Pulitzer Prizes in the s.
His hard-edged style was a major step toward the Modernist turn against the sentimentality of much nineteenth- century verse. Several of his book-length narrative poems were popular in their time, but it is on his shorter works—precisely written, psychologically acute, and sensitively sympathetic to the outcast and downtrodden—that his permanent reputation rests. Terence Hegarty was born in Dublin, Ireland, in and spent his childhood and early teenage years there. In he moved with his family to New York.
A proliic songwriter and singer and musician as well as a poet, he performs frequently and has issued twelve CDs of his own music, the most recent of which are Reimagine and Demon Lover Working for many years as a writer, editor, and proofreader for publications in the social sciences, he has lived in New York both the city and upstate and Washington, D. He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was rich—yes, richer than a king— And admirably schooled in every grace: In ine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat, and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head. Cliff Klingenhagen Cliff Klingenhagen had me in to dine With him one day; and after soup and meat, And all the other things there were to eat, Cliff took two glasses and illed one with wine And one with wormwood. Then, without a sign For me to choose at all, he took the draught Of bitterness himself, and lightly quaffed It off, and said the other one was mine. And when I asked him what the deuce he meant By doing that, he only looked at me And smiled, and said it was a way of his.
Insomma, per noi era tutto quello che Volevamo per essere al suo posto. Let the man go: The road was his with not a native near; And Eben, having leisure, said aloud, For no man else in Tilbury Town to hear: Flood, we have the harvest moon Again, and we may not have many more; The bird is on the wing, the poet says, And you and I have said it here before. Drink to the bird. Flood, Since you propose it, I believe I will. La strada era deserta, nessun paesano in giro.
E Eben, avendo tempo, disse forte, Ora che nessun altro in Tilbury era a tiro: Then, as a mother lays her sleeping child Down tenderly, fearing it may awake, He set the jug down slowly at his feet With trembling care, knowing that most things break; And only when assured that on irm earth It stood, as the uncertain lives of men Assuredly did not, he paced away, And with his hand extended paused again: Flood, we have not met like this In a long time; and many a change has come To both of us, I fear, since last it was We had a drop together.
Flood, if you insist, I might. Flood— For auld lang syne. No more, sir; that will do. He raised again the jug regretfully And shook his head, and was again alone. There was not much that was ahead of him, And there was nothing in the town below— Where strangers would have shut the many doors That many friends had opened long ago.
Later that momentous night, In the dark hotel room, Valerie asked Why he had chosen to act. From the edge Of sleep he gave her a smart answer. Richard Ordway was asleep. How very modish this all is, she thought. His highly skilled bid for blind Stumbling freedom; what an eficient use Of lovely, intelligent me.
He must have had his anxious moments As he tested her caliber and stability, Gradually informing her by various levities And conidences what he needed her for. He had delayed to let the truth sink in; She saw that now. She saw how much more This all might have hurt had he acted too soon.
Al limite Del sonno, le diede una risposta intelligente. Ma forse che non aveva funzionato? Adesso Si riposa dal suo sforzo, la ine del viaggio Dopo un anno di complotti, un anno Che per lei era stato decisamente piacevole E spesso entusiasmante, un anno di maree Calde, inevitabili, che andavano e venivano. Adam and Eve He left them alone for just an hour and he was imprisoned by his dark deed.
What could they liberated do? Invite him to dinner? At least tell him and let the dark in this white room where no one had ever been. Precipice She picks with her ingers, feeling for fences, furtively she dabs at her forbidden fruit. Late I walked by the walnut tree, and the full moon was mother and light. Oh souls in misery, oh saved and mistreated, would she release me? Cosa potevano fare loro che erano stati liberati?
Andare in prigione con lui? Precipizio Li raccoglie con le dita, stando attenta ai recinti, furtivamente siora il suo frutto proibito. The irst fell off a tree, the second peaceably Sought out another life. And all alone the third My next of kin among them drank without a word Each time he fell in water. After rangers came And found my coz there where he lay as hot as lame, Spread like a pentagram, his penis pointing south, They pried sand crystals from his gem-encrusted mouth. Some other three relived the centuries of rain Before their local railway conveyed them all to pain. Then was there water only lowing down their throats, And food abundant then as long as men had boats.
Those days were seven hundred miles behind, alas, And, dry as always, three just made it to the pass And laid their bundles down before the gates of Flush. The bardo proved intractable, and made them mush. The three I knew the least stayed by me to the maze. Invariable they remained their lease of days. Where that voracious vine of glass and mirrors grows Their contract shattered like a cryogenic rose. Altri tre hanno rivissuto i secoli di pioggia Prima che la ferrovia locale li portasse tutti verso il dolore.
I tre che conoscevo di meno erano rimasti con me al labirinto. Non cambiarono minimamente, per il resto dei loro giorni. Faceva un freddo pungente, e in una nuvola di vapore gelato Sparirono tutti e si trasferirono in un sogno, Mi abbandonarono ai ghiaccioli che mi bruciavano il volto, Tutti scomparsi e mi hanno rinchiuso in questo posto duro [e freddo.
No more tempting me on Brooklyn Heights, you brightness of brightness out in the bay. Now the light is gone out of you, I see nothing at last but that blinding treaty. Boys, I see it now, scared or looking for trouble. I was right then to aim and shoot straight. But that Stater who fell changed nothing.
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They learn of the brood of educated misers I gave to Long Island and San Francisco, but not how I murdered and served time before the long schooling began. Forty years I sleepwalked near Manhattan, seven children a tender dream and gone. Why did I ever carry a gun? Castleblayney o Tullow, o qualche altro capolinea, di sicuro mi darai uno scossone e mi farai scendere. I sacchi di sabbia, le mitragliatrici, non sono ancora [sparite. Ragazzi, adesso li vedo, spaventati o in cerca di guai. Ho fatto bene allora a prendere la mira e spara dritto.
Gli occhi ce li ho ancora, e vedo pecore dappertutto in questa terra sonnacchiosa. Gli parlo di quel branco di taccagni istruiti che ho regalato a Long Island e a San Francisco, ma non di come ho ucciso e sono andato in prigione prima che iniziasse la mia lunga educazione. The victim spun or crumpled, there was some blood and usually a twisted face. So they changed the way they regarded pain. From time to time some of them caused pain, and more than likely most of them suffered it; but not in most cases lesh-ripping bullets or smashed heads. These images they just carried to lunch, to work, and to bed.
And no pictures moved of millions really dying, millions tortured anywhere but in the living room. Each watching, unseeing soul a dusty iber from an old rope, inally a haze of ininitesimal particulate matter in the air everywhere. Queste immagini se le portavano soltanto a pranzo, al lavoro, e a letto. E le immagini di milioni che morivano per davvero, di [milioni di torturati non si muovevano da nessuna parte, eccetto [che in soggiorno. She is a poet, short story writer and blogger www. Chris Price — a poet, editor and educator — was born in Read- ing, England, in , and immigrated to Auckland, New Zealand, in Auckland University Press, , stating that Price had already established herself as a major and distinctive poetic talent.
The smooth and sincere tone of her verse, however, is deceivingly endearing: Even a small sample of poems like this is suficient to illustrate why Chris Price is so highly regarded among contemporary New Zealand poets. And luckier than her readers are the new genera- tions of poets she inspires and mentors. Dawn lushes the birds from their silence — hectic petticoats trimmed with disappearing mist — and there, under a shaggy hem of pines, the monster Grendel stealing home, mouth full of pinking shears.
His rough palm grips the bruised root of a plant torn from a mountainside releasing scent of a more legendary bloom. Wings of lowers fall and star the path behind him as he travels swiftly over the ground breathing breathing. Il suo manto scintilla, le parole della ragazza sono falene intrappolate nelle sue orecchie cieche.
Ali di iori cadono e segnano la strada dietro di lui mentre avanza svelto sulla terra e respira respira. Swan Song Imagining transcendence we pinned the wings of swans to the blunt nubs of our shoulder-blades grafting it on. Although in time they grew large enough to give our bodies levity our laggard minds took longer. Neural runways unrolled slowly, so at irst we mastered simpler stuff. It changed the way we slept. Feather beds demand too much re-making: Intimacy too required a whole new repertoire, but the rustling, ininitely delicate brush of plumage made learning joyous.
Il canto del cigno Immaginando trascendenza ci siamo appuntati le ali dei cigni alla sporgenza appiattita delle scapole, innestandocela. I letti di piume vanno rifatti troppo spesso: We ceased to sing seeing clearly, from the vantage of our airy architecture, how much there was to mourn for on the awkward earth. We took up the endless task of smoothing rufled feathers.
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Preening, we discovered, was sublime comfort, but still it turned us away from the world. So then we tried to cultivate the art of listening. Stowage for Jonathan Besser The sadness of bells sitting silent shelved like a library of hearts old salts in their retirement. Ci dedicammo al compito ininito di spianare le piume arruffate. Stivaggio a Jonathan Besser La malinconia delle campane tacite su uno scaffale, una libreria di cuori vecchi lupi di mare in pensione.
The submarine cathedral of its ribs still echoes though the ship is long since lensed and rendered down — this spare music the last thing that lingers the songs of our youth always the last to go. Fratti was born in Italy but has been living in New York City since In addition to his writing achievements, he also serves as New York drama critic for European newspapers. Si tratta di Albert Lei lo conosce bene Vorrei conoscerlo pure io Non li ho mai capiti. TERZA sempre vagamente ironica: Forse son le preoccupazioni Lui ne ha una sola.
In letto, natural- mente. Il suo denaro — spende volentieri solo per cose sue — The Fourth enters timidly. The Third stares at her. The Third gestures for the Fourth to sit. You know him well… Third: I never understood them… Third: They change from day to day… from moment to mo- ment. He has only one. Is he really so selish? So does my brother. Colpa delle madri, in un certo senso. Molte madri viziano i igli. Parla favorevolmente, sempre, di tutte le donne. Ed ama gli animali Un insetto, un giorno, sul nostro tavolo Lo indicai con ribrezzo Lo prese delicatamente fra due dita e lo depose fuori.
Non le piace un uomo gentile? Le issa — intensamente — e basta. Not always… Sometimes… Many mothers spoil their children, especially the little boys… Third: She always defends him. He… speaks well of her… Third: He always says good things about women. And he loves animals, I noticed. He took it delicately between two ingers and put it on a window-sill. What do you want to know?
You two… are no longer… puts two ingers together together… Third: Too… soft and gentle. He was gentle with… every woman. Third staring at her: Un paio di volte e poi le pianta. Rideva di cuore, allegro. Una paralisi alla mascella? Ginnastica ogni mattina, dalle cinque alle sei: Una co- lazione da lupo famelico alle sette e sedici. Alle sette e sedici — precise? Non conosci questi partico- lari Non hai ancora passato una notte nel suo letto?
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Sul suo tavolo, in uficio? Son venuta proprio per questo Come le ho accennato al telefono Del suo ex — volevo dire. Che vuoi da me? Mario Fratti Fourth: Twice and then he jilts them. Fourth uneasily, after a pause: He called me the other day. In a great mood. What happened to him? I should have guessed it. That animal never gets sick. Gymnastics every morning from 5: Wolfs down breakfast at 7: No… Not yet… Third: Where have you… gesture? On the desk, in his ofice? On his green couch? Intimate afternoons at the little hotel on the corner of 59th?
I just came here because… Third: With your ex, I mean. I forgot him long ago. What do you want from me? A favor, from woman to woman. Un favore, da donna a donna. Voglio parlare con lei Sono divorziata pure io. Non voglio un altro sbaglio, nella mia vita. Voglio che sia un amore vero. E che vuoi da me? Siamo tutte nella stessa barca Che vogliono, questi benedetti uomini?
Ed io, allora, che posso dirti? Ci ha vissuto quattro anni Lo conosco bene, purtroppo! Si alza alle cinque, ha detto Hai parlato anche a quella vipera? Non voglio sentire quei nomi in questa casa! Mi ha detto che si svegliava presto. Lei — alle sei e mezza — e sentiva questo desiderio di abbracciarlo. Ci tiene molto alla Salta il pranzo, per non ingrassare. Io conosco il bastardo meglio delle altre. Io conosco Albert il vecchio. Dimentica quel che ti hanno detto le altre due! Mario Fratti mistake in my life. Not just a sexual infatu- ation… Third: And what do you want from me?
Mistake after mistake… What do they want, these damn men? Then how can I tell you? You lived with him for four years. I know him well, unfortunately! Please… a brief pause Third: You spoke to that bitch? And to Monica — Third irritated: I spoke with… the irst one. He was furious to be awakened at that hour. Is he… a health nut? The older he gets, the nuttier he gets. He skips dinner… not to get fat. Monica told me — correcting herself The second one told me that she used to prepare special treats for him… to excite him… to arouse him… Third: Forty-one is not so… Third: Forget what the other two told you!
Buena mano y buenas historias. Moran hubiera dicho que era una de las peores costumbres de los mexicanos, ponerse a mirar donde no deben. Tutti apparteniamo ai luoghi dove non siamo stati prima. Sin embargo, la prosa deja mucho que desear. During the early 20th century, the writer sets up a strong crime story. The historical facts of the Mexican Revolution surround the story but they are not enough to change the diverse characters of the 4 protagonists. A hymn to mannish friendship that manages to survive all dangers.
A fun blending of crime fiction, historical fiction, noir, and political intrigue. PIT II is an electric writer. I don't like traditional mysteries, but the four main characters are so interesting I would have followed them anywhere. Will be looking to read more of Taibo's work for sure. This is not a mystery novel. It is not a crime novel. It is a blessed Opera. Nikos Kyriazis rated it really liked it Aug 07, Jonathan yates rated it liked it Jul 23, Emmanuel Vera prestado rated it liked it Aug 25, Vangia rated it really liked it Jul 11, Cattle Class rated it liked it Feb 07, Fotis Chatzifotiou rated it really liked it May 04, Elisa rated it liked it Aug 25, Alejandro Ramirez rated it it was amazing Sep 12, Limowankenobi rated it it was amazing Jul 11, There are no discussion topics on this book yet.
Paco Ignacio Taibo II. He is the son of the late journalist Paco Ignacio Taibo I. Trivia About The Shadow of the No trivia or quizzes yet. Quotes from L'ombra dell'ombra.