Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
The Fact that Earth is Heaven -
Whether Heaven is Heaven or not
If not an Affidavit
Of that specific Spot
Not only must confirm us
That it is not for us
But that it would affront us
To dwell in such a place.
Commenta
The Fact that Earth is Heaven -
Whether Heaven is Heaven or not
If not an Affidavit
Of that specific Spot
Not only must confirm us
That it is not for us
But that it would affront us
To dwell in such a place.
No Passenger was known to flee -
That lodged a Night in memory -
That wily - subterranean Inn
Contrives that none go out again.
A Field of Stubble, lying sere
Beneath the second Sun -
It's Toils to Brindled People thrust -
It's Triumphs - to the Bin -
Accosted by a timid Bird
Irresolute of Alms -
Is often seen - but seldom felt,
On our New England Farms.
Bees are Black - with Gilt Surcingles -
Buccaneers of Buzz -
Ride abroad in ostentation
And subsist on Fuzz -
Fuzz ordained - not Fuzz contingent -
Marrows of the Hill.
Jugs - a Universe's fracture
Could not jar or spill.
March is the Month of Expectation.
The things we do not know -
The Persons of prognostication
Are coming now -
We try to show becoming firmness -
But pompous Joy
Betrays us, as his first Betrothal
Betrays a Boy.
My Maker - let me be
Enamored most of thee -
But nearer this
I more should miss.
We safe commit thee -
Tongue if it hath,
Inviolate to thee -
Silence - denote -
And Sanctity - enforce thee -
Passenger - of Infinity.
Dae s'istrada chi andat a Nuoro
ti miran in s'artura, oh idda mia,
che matron'assentada, bella ebbia
in pannos de broccadu e trizzas d'oro.
Sos abitantes, cun su zelu insoro,
superan su pastore'e Baronia
e sun capazes in sa messaria
cantu sos bonos de su Logudoro.
Tenen altu talentu e bonu coro,
in d'ogn'aspru triballu han valentia,
sun previdentes e faghen tesoro
de su chi fruttat sa terra nadia.
Amore e paghe, naran, solu imploro
intr"e sos crastos de sa domo mia.
Goceanu ti mandat dae levante
su manzanu sas lughes rie rie,
sas roccas de su monte, a mesu die,
t'incastran in sa fronte unu brillante;
Palai maestosu che gigante,
su babbu de su frittu e de su nie,
regalat in s'istiu, solu a tie,
s'ultimu asu 'e su sole calante.
Dae su Padru tributu costante
dan sas funtanas chi forman su riu,
chi ti carignat sos pes a donz'ora.
Tott'in giru sas baddes, cale amante,
ti faghen corte, ti ponen in briu,
ti cantan s'innu eternu 'e s'aurora.
Ah Sun-Flower! Weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done:
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire
Where my Sun-Flower wishes to go.
To find the Western path
Right thro' the Gates of Wrath
I urge my way.
Sweet Mercy leads me on,
With soft repentant moan
I see the break of day.
The war of swords e spears
Melted by dewy tears
Exhales on high.
The Sun is freed from fears
And with soft grateful tears
Ascends the sky.