—Mark Strand, taken from “A Poet’s Alphabet” in The Weather of Words: Poetic Invention (Alfred A. Knopf, 2000).
N come Neruda, che era un genio, ma nella cui scrittura bellezza e banalità sono inestricabilmente intrecciate. Le sue poesie sono un desiderio irrealizzabile. Leggerlo è come partecipare alla correzione verbale di quelle che sono universalmente percepite ineguaglianze sociali o naturali. Soggetti triviali, modificati da aggettivi che denotano la rarità o il celestiale, sono innalzati ad un regno di eccezionale valore.
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII” from The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems, edited by Mark Eisner. Copyright © 2004 City Lights Books.
Source: The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems (City Lights Books, 2004)
Pablo Neruda |
One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII” from The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems, edited by Mark Eisner. Copyright © 2004 City Lights Books.
Source: The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems (City Lights Books, 2004)
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