Journal of Italian Translation - Brooklyn College - Academic Home ...

Federica Santini - Robert Simon / Amelia Rosselli
ruin in time and excavations a romantic sacrifice of beauty.
Seeing the industry that moves imposing upon itself a meager
[experience
tragic is the truth. With my heart running in a fast cursive,
[I’m looking at you
heart of mine.
I will die in the old style still preoccupied with the future
speaking in the shadow of a cypress
A Poem to Adriano Spatola
The sea has white crests that I don’t know and time, how nice
wriggles nicely in my arms, and docile I corrode –
and subtly it whine from the achy knee that befell me.
Without spite I remind you an immense joyful day
But you forget true wisdom. If night is a
bashful lessening how I would play again with the pretty
sweet ladies who taught you that giving or truth, it is not
true.
Feeling the death of the sweet tyranny I call
[you back
ready and willing siren – but the defeated face of a clear
[foreseeing
other faults and docile obedience brings me silly
hopes.
Serious disgraces are pressing.
Truth is an entire death.
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