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Bottiglie Fosco Maraini Non siamo tutti simili a bottiglie ripiene di ricordi e cronicaglie? Bistròccoli, fruschelli, filaccetti ricolmano le pance trasparine, fanfàggini, birìllidi, nulletti s’asserpano in ghirlande cilestrine… Se scuoti la bottiglia sgrengoluta risorgono megoni e gastrifèmi, rispuntano tra mèmmola grognuta nascosti vercigogni e schifilemi. Talvolta vedi invece lumigenti miriàgoli, trigèridi, fernuschi, e piangi su gavati struggimenti finiti coi patassi fra i rifiuschi. Non tornano a rivivere le facce d’amici e d’amorilli luscherosi? Risplòdono le voci, le morcacce d’incontri cuspidiali e trucidiosi! Poi un giorno la bottiglia si tracassa, il vetro si sbiréngola nel sole in croccherucci verdi, in patafrassa, tra l’erbe cucche e cionche di pagliòle. Ahi dove sono allora i gaviretti, i nobili tracordi, i rimembrili, i càccheri, gli smèrmidi, i frulletti, i mòrfani, gli sghèfani gentili? Sdrafànico mistero di bottiglia bottiglia di sdrafànico mistero. |
Bottles Fosco Maraini Are we not all of us like bottles chock-full of memories and carnicles? Bistrotessens, fooderfills, fitalings fill stomachs clear as crystalets, fanfarens, pinslips, naughtlings slither snakelike in baskinets… If you shake the bottle a spoutpour of sbereavements and indigestence, among speckollections gushafore hidden ignonfamy and perpugnance. At times you see luminations miragence, blissence, twaslongs, and cry over smuch emotions lost in the repass of the seasongs. Will the faces of friends and adorelings belovened ever return again? Rethunder the voices, the burstling of encounters cuspdial and lethalan! Then one day the bottle sharters, the glass bissentigrates under sunrays in greenish scards, in potsherds, among grasses convex an’ cave in bales. Oh where are the onceupons now, the noble traccords, the remembralls, the chanter, the murmourns, the flutteboughs, the coroons, the whispels oh so gentle? Insurmountainous mystery of bottle bottle of insurmountainous mystery. Translation ©Matilda Colarossi 2020 |
The poem if from “Gnòsi delle fànfole” by Fosco Maraini (Ed. Dalai).
Other works by the author: https://paralleltexts.blog/tag/fosco-maraini/
Painting “Bottle of port and glass” by Picasso,1919, Dallas Museum.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
“cronicaglie”, mi piace molto, credo che l’adotterò, ma tutto il lessico è particolare
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How brave of you – this is a bit like translating Carroll’s Jabberwocky! Great work!
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Hi Massimo! I think it’s a sign of madness more than bravery. The funny thing is that by the end of the translation, I understand every word he says. Should I be worried? Lol!
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Ha ha! No, I think it’s normal—that’s where his genius lies. I love Fosco Maraini’s metalinguistic poems. The more I read them—apart from the fact that they really give me a sense of joy—the more I also think I can catch some extra glimpse of a story. There is one I have known by heart since I was 17, Il giorno ad Urlapicchio.
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Here it is…https://paralleltexts.blog/2018/09/23/il-giorno-ad-urlapicchio-a-day-at-topofmylungs-by-fosco-maraini/
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