Two Poems
Originals by Maria Borio
Translated, from the Italian, by Danielle Pieratti
Shelter
I.
They tell their stories, one face in the other.
There’s the fresh bread on the counter, dry,
the sound of touched things. He arranges
pieces in rows—hands seem like earth,
fingernails trimmed to the flesh.
Histories cut down to templates
short circuit. Through
the glass only the forms of shirts
made in China seem real.
How to say place for shelter?
The sky presses down on everyone, bodies
slide from shirts.
II.
To speak, to hear: we enter, we buy
two kilos of bread—speak, hear
hot hands, geological eyes. Seeming
to crisscross, us in the morning alone
from the counter to the window to the street…
Translucent rods through the glass
are branches—and the wind
opens, closes them.
III.
The name starts with a and ends with h
the sound of something hot, made of yeast
and it’s true—the distance is less in products
than in ethnicity. The thing explodes.
The wind compresses everyone,
it ends in h, as though blowing.
IV.
We curve like snakes, mixed tongues.
We pass through an imaginary place.
It’s a dare, like the boy from the fable
who hid a fox under his arm.
The sky presses everyone, solitudes explode.
The place around is real—the snakes mere sound.
Accoglienza
I.
Si raccontano, una faccia nell’altra.
C’è il pane fresco sul banco, asciutto,
il suono di cose toccate. Dispone
pezzi in fila – le mani sembrano terra,
le unghie sono tagliate fin dentro la carne.
Le storie scomposte in sagome
fanno corto circuito. Attraverso
il vetro appare reale solo la forma
delle magliette made in china.
Come dire posto per accoglienza?
Il cielo preme su tutti, scivolano fuori
dalle magliette i corpi.
II.
Parlare, sentire: entriamo, compriamo
due chili di pane – parlare, sentire
le mani calde, gli occhi geologici. Sembra
di attraversarsi, noi nella mattina soli
dal banco al vetro alla strada…
Le aste traslucide attraverso i vetri
sono rami – e il vento
le apre, li chiude.
III.
Il nome inizia con la a e finisce con la h
suona una cosa calda, di lievito
ed è vero – la distanza esiste meno
di prodotti che di etnia. La cosa esplode.
Il vento comprime tutti,
finisce con la h, come si soffia.
IV.
Sembriamo serpenti, curve, lingue mescolate.
Passiamo attraverso un posto immaginario.
È una sfida, come il ragazzo della favola
nascondeva la volpe tra ascella e fianco.
Il cielo preme su tutti, le solitudini esplodono.
Il posto intorno è vero – i serpenti solo suono.
LIMITS
Silence: with what other word would you reach me?
On the edge of the airport atmosphere is everything
it fixes our worlds to an axis that falls to earth
without touching it, carries all our weight.
With what other word would you touch me?
Between flesh and plexiglass, between plexiglass
and the hangar’s wind, sweat is the only sign.
It turns into transparent knots
crystal forms tremble under the wings.
With what other word might we live forever?
Maybe that aging star ate its young, but it died
and fell, became a guiltless contrail.
We lean heads against windows, lose intimacy.
Only fluorescent slivers between horizon and brain.
So touch me, silence, make it hurt.
LIMITI
Silenzio: con quale altra parola vuoi raggiungermi?
Al limite dell’aeroporto l’atmosfera è tutto
chiude i nostri mondi in un’ascissa che scende a terra
senza toccarla, porta il peso di tutto.
Con quale altra parola vuoi toccarmi?
Il sudore è l’unico segno dalla carne al plexiglass
dal plexiglass al vento dell’hangar.
Diventa nodi trasparenti
forme di cristallo tremano sotto le ali.
Con quale altra parola cerchiamo di vivere per sempre?
La stella vecchia mangiava la giovane ma poi è morta
e cadendo è diventata una scia senza colpa.
Appoggiamo la testa al finestrino, perdiamo l’intimità.
Solo schegge fluorescenti dall’orizzonte al cervello.
E allora toccami silenzio, fammi male.
Italian poet Maria Borio has published two books of poetry: Trasparenza (2019, Interlinea) and L’altro limite (2017, Pordenonelegge-lietocolle), and a selection of her works entitled “Vite Unite” was included in XII Quaderno italiano di poesia contemporanea (2015, Marcos y Marcos). She holds a Ph.D. in Contemporary Italian Literature and has written the monographs Satura. Da Montale alla lirica contemporanea (2013, Serra) and Poetiche e individui (2018, Marsilio). She is poetry editor of the journal Nuovi Argomenti, previously directed by Alberto Moravia and Pier Paolo Pasolini.
Danielle Pieratti is a poet, translator, educator, and PhD student at the University of Connecticut. Her first book of poems, Fugitives (2016, Lost Horse Press), was selected by Kim Addonizio for the 2016 Idaho Prize and won the 2017 Connecticut Book Award for poetry. Her poems and translations have appeared in The Paris Review, Boston Review, Words Without Borders, Mid-American Review, and elsewhere. Transparencies, her translated volume of poems by Italian poet Maria Borio, is forthcoming from World Poetry Books in 2021.
“Shelter” and “Limits,” will appear in a full-length volume of Borio’s poems translated by Danielle Pieratti and forthcoming from World Poetry Books later this year.