Perché

Written in Italian by Laura Accerboni

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– Non mugugnarci sopra tutto il giorno, disse. Io parlo a vanvera. Desisti da codeste ruminazioni.
La testa scomparve ma il bombito della sua voce discendente emergeva rombando dalla cima delle scale:
Non appartarti più per ruminare
Sull’amaro mistero dell’amore
Poi che Fergus governa i bronzei cocchi.
(James Joyce, Ulisse, Parte I, “Telemaco”. La torre, Oscar Mondadori, 2000, p. 11; trad. di Giulio De Angelis)

Perché
io ho amato
in un solo lungo giorno
lo scorrere
del nastro
e dicevo che era
mare
poi che era
pietra
ed era comunque falso

*

Sempre falso
ho amato
accendendo e
spegnendo la luce
pensando
quanta luce
abbiamo
sotto i piedi
e il fuoco
a quel punto
non incendiava
non me
da me annoiato

*

Lasciavo precipitare
i bambini
ed era vero
e il vero
era
tantissimi
A fine giornata
imparavano
a saltare
da palazzo a palazzo
e io potevo andare
dai corpi
a raccoglierli

*

Avevo facce
grandissime e arate
ma non c’era raccolto
la gente era
affamata
e io anche
Distrussi in un’ora
lasciando intatte
solo le bocche

*

Ruminando
gli oggetti sconosciuti
per la casa
dico che i pascoli
sono plastica
e noi la ricicliamo
Brave belve
che mangiano ordine
prima dei fuochi
prima che i fuochi
falsamente
cancellino

*

Dalle torri
si affacciavano
per vedere
il loro corpo
era ora di colazione
l’ora in cui latte
riporta
braccia
gambe
pezzi sparsi
per poi ritirarsi

*

Guardando
il latte versato
alti mari bianchi
formarono
i corpi
dovevamo bere
per salvarli
ma noi al tavolo
solo pensando
Quanto latte
serve ancora
per sommergerli

*

Si è messo
a navigare
sullo specchio
dice che ci sarà
tempesta
la pelle
è la prima onda
alta
e già ci schiaccia

*

Ha ucciso la madre
conservandola nell’armadio
Non dovevano esserci specchi
quelli nuovi ne hanno sempre uno all’interno
perché ci si deve pur guardare
Guarda
come siamo cresciuti
pulite perfino le orecchie
ascoltano la morte
preparare il caffè
e da dentro
la luce
è finalmente
spenta.

Published June 13, 2022
© Laura Accerboni 2022

Because

Written in Italian by Laura Accerboni


Translated into English by Todd Portnowitz

– Don’t mope over it all day, he said. I’m inconsequent. Give up the moody brooding.
His head vanished but the drone of his descending voice boomed out of the stairhead:

And no more turn aside and brood
Upon love’s bitter mystery
For Fergus rules the brazen cars.

(James Joyce, Ulysses, Part I: Episode 1, “Telemachus,” The Tower)

Because
I loved
in one long day
the spooling
ribbon
and said it was
sea
and then that it was
stone
and either way it was false

*

Falsely, that’s how
I’ve always loved
igniting and
extinguishing the light
thinking
how much light
we have
beneath our feet
and the fire
in that moment
would not catch
not me
bored by myself

*

I let the children
plummet
and it was true
and the truth
was
manifold
At the end of the day
they learned
to jump
from building to building
and I could go
to their bodies
to collect them

*

I had faces
faces large and plowed
but there was no harvest
the people
starved
and so did I
In an hour I destroyed
leaving only
their mouths intact

*

Ruminating
on unknown objects
around the house
I say the pastureland
is plastic
and we recycle it
Blessed beasts
consuming order
before fires
before the fires
falsely
obliterate

*

From the towers
they looked out
to see
their bodies
it was breakfast time
the time when milk
restores
arms
legs
scattered parts
and then recedes

*

Watching
the pouring milk
high white seas
took the shape
of their bodies
we had to drink
to save them
but we sat at the table
thinking only
How much milk
to go
before they’re under

*

He went off
sailing
in the mirror
says a storm
is coming
skin
is the first
high wave
and we’re already crushed

*

He killed his mother
and kept her in the wardrobe
There shouldn’t have been mirrors
new ones always have one on the inside
after all, we need to see ourselves
Look
how we’ve grown
even our ears clean
listening to death
making coffee
and from within
the light
is finally
extinguished.

Published June 13, 2022
© Laura Accerboni 2022
© Specimen 2022

Denn

Written in Italian by Laura Accerboni


Translated into German by Michaela Heissenberger

– Nun blas‘ mal nicht den ganzen Tag Trübsal deswegen, sagte er. Ich bin eben inkonsequent. Laß das launische Sinnen.
Sein Kopf verschwand, doch seine niedersteigende Stimme drang brummend aus dem Treppenschacht herauf:

Und nimmer geh beiseit‘ und sinn‘
Der Liebe bitterm Rätsel nach,
Denn Fergus lenkt die erz‘nen Wagen …

(James Joyce, Ulysses, Teil I, Suhrkamp 1975/2001, S. 15; Übersetzung von Hans Wollschläger) 

Denn
ich habe es geliebt
einen langen Tag lang
dieses Ablaufen
des Bands
und sagte es sei
Meer
dann es sei
Stein
so oder so war es falsch

*

Immer falsch
habe ich geliebt
das Licht an
und ausgeschaltet
gedacht
wieviel Licht
wir haben
unter den Füßen
und das Feuer
zündete nicht
in dem Moment
nicht mich
angeödet von mir

*

Ich ließ sie fallen
die Kinder
das war wahr
und wahr war
waren
viele
Am Ende des Tages
lernten sie
zu springen
von Haus zu Haus
und ich konnte
zu den Körpern gehen
sie einsammeln

*

Ich hatte Gesichter
riesige gepflügte
aber es gab keine Ernte
die Leute waren
hungrig
und ich auch
Zerstörte alles in einer Stunde
ganz blieben
nur die Münder

*

Die unbekannten Objekte
im Haus
wiederkäuend
sage ich dieser Grastick
ist nichts als Plastik
das wir recyceln
Brave Tiere
die Ordnung fressen
vor den Feuern
bevor die Feuer
fälschlich
löschen

*

Aus den Türmen
schauten sie
und sahen
ihren Körper
es war Frühstückszeit
Zeit in der die Milch
Arme
Beine
verstreute Teile
zurückbringt
und sich zurückzieht

*

Der Anblick
der verschütteten Milch
hohe weiße Meere
formten
die Körper
wir mussten trinken
um sie zu retten
aber wir am Tisch
dachten nur
Wieviel Milch
ist noch nötig
sie zu bedecken

*

Er sticht in
See
auf dem Spiegel
sagt es wird
Sturm aufkommen
die Haut
ist die erste hohe
Welle
und sie zermalmt uns 

*

Getötet die Mutter
im Schrank aufbewahrt
Der musste ohne Spiegel sein
die neuen haben immer Innenspiegel
man muss sich ja anschauen können
Schau
wie groß wir geworden sind
sauber sogar die Ohren
sie hören dem Tod zu
beim Kaffeekochen
und dort drinnen
ist das Licht
endlich
aus. 

Published June 13, 2022
© Laura Accerboni 2022
© Michaela Heissenberger 2022


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