Scocca un fulmine bianco di delizia
Sopra i campi e la sera si propaga.
Eco piange solenne ai tabernacoli.
A lightning bolt strikes white with delight
Over the fields and the evening unfurls.
Echo cries solemn at the tabernacles.
Translation ©Matilda Colarossi
I have come to realize that sometimes, when reading poetry, I hold my breath. Undeniably and inexplicably. I want the emotions to end, quickly; I want them to last, forever. The collection of poems by Mario Luzi, ‘Un Brindisi’, Sansoni, Firenze, 1946 – every one of them – has this effect on me. I had difficulty choosing just one. I have no idea how to translate that breathlessness. All I can do is try. M.C.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.