Posts Tagged ‘ vengodalmare ’

Joy of missing out – Ana Božičević – vengodalmare

Locus solus

I remember as when we trusted each other
We hay the possibility of a tree
It was neat to vibe like a newly discovered god
Whose places of service
Had not been imagined yet
But we tried
We said disco wood
Friend bonfires
And it was easy to spot them in the night summer air
That gathered like the perfect soundtrack
I still hear
Piped in from a small wound
In the side of my mountain
When I’m happy I know I’m in a poem


da Joy of missing out –
Ana Božičević

Source: Joy of missing out – Ana Božičević – vengodalmare


Elvis Presley – Blue Moon – YouTube


(Where do the dreams go?) – Thomas Wolfe e Borderproject2017 | Vengodalmare, December 24, 2017

(Where do the dreams go?) – Thomas Wolfe e Borderproject2017 | Vengodalmare

two excerpts in Italian from Vengodalmare translated to a rudimentary English by Google Translate:

[..] There is nothing more instructive and joyful than immersion in a community of human beings of a completely different race, a race that respects, with whom you sympathize, of which you are proud even if you do not belong to them. The fullness of life of the Armenians, their rough affability, their noble working bones, the inexpressible distaste for any metaphysics and the wonderful familiarity with the world of real things – all this told me: you are still lucid, do not fear your time, do not get smart.
It will not have been because I was in the midst of a people celebrated for its fervid activity and yet lived based not on clocks of stations or public offices, but on the time of the sundials, like the one I saw in the ruins of Zvartnoc in the form of a wheel or a rose engraved in the stone? (Osip Mandelstam)

So, when all my soul will be
in the paradise of you
(in which only I understand
I grow and see)
the scaffolding of my body,
the bones, which are still with you,
the muscles, the strength, the veins,
that shape this house,
they will come back again.

from Angelo, look at the past –
Thomas Wolfe



Vengodalmare – O mundo é um moinho – Cartola

O mundo é um moinho – Cartola

CHANDRA LIVIA CANDIANI – Apprentices of the moon in the meditation room

Meditation and poetry are “nocturnal ways” – clear-cut and essential although not easily deciphered by reason. They are like moonlight that shines in the dark, that illumines and veils. In the East, the moon represents the mind that reflects, is compassionate, does not separate. The moon teaches the flow and holds the secret of appearances and disappearances. Poetry, too, is reflected light, mysterious gift that disappears in the new paragraph and reappears in the next verse. Meditation is the art of dwelling in everything – even in disappearance, even in nothingness; dwelling in nothingness like the new moon. Chandra Livia Candiani proposes a connection between poetry and meditation, a shared time to experiment together, to conquer the fear of the void and recognize the space in it. We are all apprentices, and being apprentices of the moon means not to fear darkness, to learn the art of wandering and of silent traces. The meditation room is portable, it is our body.  – source

Nell’orto c’è paura c’è
mezzogiorno di fuoco,
tu Bea porta con te
la tana tenera
dell’amicizia, dicono
che ho troppi doni nelle mani
e tu che nel troppo
avevi dimora, distribuiscili
tra i passeri, i lombrichi,
le chiocciole, dalli in pasto
ai trifogli e alla salvia,
non far crescere fiori
che mi rapinano lo sguardo.
Dicono che io sono sempre
in allarme, all’erta
e tu profuga smarrita
in ogni agio
spiegaglielo che sono in veglia
in canto insonne di uccelli
per ubriacatura di primavera.
Se ti portassi qui
saresti in breve la monaca folle
sposata con le piante
e gli animali e tutto il resto
che fa capolino
dal mistero.
Ci sei e non ci sei,
sei il luogo,
troppo vasta
per vederti.
Sfiorami dunque
col pensiero
come fanno le mosche
quando rincorrendosi
formano geometrie


Chandra Livia Candiani

Da: La Bambina Pugile, Einaudi, 2014.

In the garden there is fear, there is
high noon on fire,
you, Bea, take with you
the gentle cave
of friendship, they say
I have too many gifts on my hands,
and you who were at home
in the too many, share them out
between the sparrows, the worms,
the snails, give them
to the trefoil and the sage,
don’t grow flowers
that will steal my sight.
They say I am always
alarmed, on alert,
and you, refugee lost
in any comfort,
explain to them that I keep vigil
with the sleepless song of birds,
drunk on spring.
If I brought you here
you would soon be the mad nun
married to the plants
and the animals and everything else
that peeps in
on the mystery.
You are here, and you are not,
you are the place,
too vast
to be seen.
Touch me then
with a thought
like the flies do
when, chasing each other,
they form geometries
in love.

Chandra Livia Candiani

From: La Bambina Pugile, Einaudi, 2014. Translation by Bhikkhu Abhinando

Chandra Livia Candiani Poems

Chandra Livia Candiani – Vengodalmare  is where I learned of Chandra Livia Candiani, the contemporary Italian poet. – df


Irene Kral – Small Day Tomorrow

grazie, Marina




“La poesia è un ologramma del mondo” – Shuntaro Tanikawa: ‘Letters’ e poesie – vengodalmare


Video Lettera n.6

Before We Were Born

When you were yet unborn
and I was yet unborn,
we smelled together the scent of the air
when lightning sliced the cloudy sky.
And I realized that
some day suddenly we would meet
on an ordinary street corner here on Earth.

Shuntaro Tanikawa

from “La poesia è un ologramma del mondo” – Shuntaro Tanikawa: ‘Letters’ e poesie

Source: “La poesia è un ologramma del mondo” – Shuntaro Tanikawa: ‘Letters’ e poesie – vengodalmare