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This category contains 23 posts

A trifle : Erich Fried / Jürgen Wanger

A trifle for Catherine I don’t know what love is but perhaps it is something like this: When she come home from abroad and tells me proudly: “I sawa water rat”and I remember these words when I wake up in the night and next day at my work 10 and I long to hear her … Continue reading

Ripenso il tuo sorriso: Eugenio Montale / Boris Kniaseff

“Ripenso il tuo sorriso, ed è per me un’acqua limpida scorta per avventura tra le petraie d’un greto, esiguo specchio in cui guardi un’ellera i suoi corimbi; e su tutto l’abbraccio di un bianco cielo quieto. Codesto è il mio ricordo; non saprei dire, o lontano, se dal tuo volto si esprime libera un’anima ingenua, … Continue reading

Love at First Sight : Wislawa Szymborska / Peter Seelig

Love at First Sight They’re both convinced that a sudden passion joined them. Such certainty is beautiful but uncertainty is more beautiful still. Since they’d never met before, they’re sure that there’d been nothing between them. But what’s the word from the streets, staircases, hallways – perhaps they’ve passed each other by a million times? … Continue reading

Happy New Year – Julio Cortazar

Look, I don’t ask much, just your hand, to hold it like a little frog who’d sleep there happily. I need that door you gave me for coming into your world, that little chunk of green sugar, of a lucky ring. Can’t you just spare me your hand tonight at the end of a year … Continue reading

Savage Memories – Yehuda Amichai

I think these days of the wind in your hair, and of my years in the world which preceded your coming, and of the eternity to which I proceed before you; and I think of the bullets that did not kill me, but killed my friends— they who were better than me because they did … Continue reading

I Have Dreamed of You So Much – Robert Desnos / Richard Diebenkorn

I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real. Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make your dear voice come alive again? I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my chest as … Continue reading

Giuseppe Verdi: The Italian born a Frenchman

Addio, del passato bei sogni ridenti, Le rose del volto già son pallenti; L’amore d’Alfredo pur esso mi manca, Conforto, sostegno dell’anima stanca Ah, della traviata sorridi al desio; A lei, deh, perdona; tu accoglila, o Dio, Or tutto finì. Le gioie, i dolori tra poco avran fine, La tomba ai mortali di tutto è … Continue reading

Ugo Mulas Photographer

Ugo Mulas (1928-1973) began his studies in law in 1948 in Milan, but left to take art courses at the Brera Fine Arts Academy. In 1954 he was asked to cover the Venice Biennale, his first professional assignment. He went on to photograph every Venice Biennale through 1972 and to document his work in an art book. Mulas … Continue reading

Poppy and Memory – Paul Celan / Edvard Munch

Aus der Hand frißt der Herbst mir sein Blatt: wir sind Freunde, Wir schälen die Zeit aus den Nüssen und lehren sie gehn: die Zeit kehrt zurück in die Schale. Im Spiegel ist Sonntag, im Traum wird geschlafen, der Mund redet wahr. Mein Aug steigt hinab zum Geschlecht der Geliebten; wir sehen uns an, I … Continue reading

Loneliness – Pier Paolo Pasolini

“La solitudine” di Pier Paolo Pasolini Bisogna essere molto forti per amare la solitudine; bisogna avere buone gambe e una resistenza fuori dal comune; non si deve rischiare raffreddore, influenza e mal di gola; non si devono temere rapinatori o assassini; se tocca camminare per tutto il pomeriggio o magari per tutta la sera bisogna … Continue reading

Paul Klee – Willst du bei mir bleiben auf dieser weiten Reise?

❀ Willst du bei mir bleiben, von jetzt an bis zum Schluss? Willst du mein Zuhause sein in diesem großen Zirkus? Willst du bei mir bleiben auf dieser weiten Reise? Bis der letzte Vorhang fällt für uns Beide. Paul Klee ❀Sommeil d’hiver  Winter’s Sleep: Original lithograph, 1938. Edition: as published in the deluxe art review Verve … Continue reading

Tina Modotti by Edward Weston

One night after – all day I have been intoxicated with the memory of last night and overwhelmed with the beauty and madness of it – I need but to close my eyes and find myself not once more but still near you in that beloved darkness – with the flavor of wine yet on … Continue reading

Last Tango in Paris…

Lo sai perché mi sono innamorata?– Dillo, ti supplico.– Perché lui ha trovato il modo giusto per farmi innamorare.– E tu vuoi che l’uomo che ami ti protegga e abbia cura di te…– Certo.…- Vuoi che questo forte, ruggente e possente guerriero costruisca una fortezza dove puoi rifugiarti, in modo che tu non debba mai … Continue reading

Harold Brodkey: Stories in an Almost Classical Mode

Book Cover: Reinfried Marass Photographer Stories in an Almost Classical Mode is a short story collection by the American writer Harold Brodkey, published in 1988 by Alfred A. Knopf. Most of the stories were published in The New Yorker, between 1963 and 1988. It was Brodkey’s first book in 30 years, and presaged his much-heralded but ultimately disappointing first … Continue reading

Love Song / Liebes-Lied : Rilke – Egon Schiele

Egon Schiele : Liebespaar 1913 ( pareja de amantes) Liebes-Lied Wie soll ich meine Seele halten, daß sie nicht an deine rührt? Wie soll ich sie hinheben über dich zu andern Dingen? Ach gerne möcht ich sie bei irgendwas Verlorenem im Dunkel unterbringen an einer fremden stillen Stelle, die nicht weiterschwingt, wenn deine Tiefen schwingen. … Continue reading

The Earth turned to bring us closer

Trailer 21 Grams Film La tierra giró para acercarnos, giró sobre sí misma y en nosotros, hasta juntarnos por fin en este sueño, como fue escrito en el Simposio. Pasaron noches, nieves y solsticios; pasó el tiempo en minutos y milenios. Una carreta que iba para Nínive llegó a Nebraska. Un gallo cantó lejos del … Continue reading

Los amantes – Julio Cortazar

¿Quién los ve andar por la ciudad si todos están ciegos ? Ellos se toman de la mano: algo habla entre sus dedos, lenguas dulces lamen la húmeda palma, corren por las falanges, y arriba está la noche llena de ojos. Son los amantes, su isla flota a la deriva hacia muertes de césped, hacia … Continue reading

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