THE POEM

You can go deep into the woods at night by Maurizio Cucchi

You can go deep into the woods at night,
with a hesitant step, as you would into the house.
Leaving the village in silence, losing it:
your goal the darkness of the heart.
Sinking into the path as you grope your way,
sinking your hand into the heart and leaves,
the musk, under the rocks.
Brushing against a soft and clammy body
that grunts and jumps away.
Touching slime in a clamor of running water
or the sound of a light wind, or a thin, frigid, sinuous shape.
With the breath that you don’t have,
hearing sharpens and becomes connected
while you lose your way, collapsing with
the leaping between all the trunks and stumps.
They aren’t magical creatures,
only life and tingling sleep,
without a moon, with neither good nor evil.

(Translation by Michael Palma)

From Jeanne d’Arc and Her Double (2011)

Gargano. Beech wood. Photo Archivio Fotogramma

My Salento - by Maria Felicita Cordella Greetings from Punta Meliso - by Lino Angiuli The tired woman dreamer - by Adeodato Piazza Nicolai Greetings from Castro - by Lino Angiuli OSTUNI, I - by Paolo Valesio The Last Green God - by Barbara Carle Greetings from Acaia - by Lino Angiuli And now that our words… - by Giovanna Politi If you forget me - by Giovanna Politi Only a chapter - by Joseph Tusiani 2015-01-06 - by Francesco Aprile And they will come again - by Giovanna Nosarti Bar - by Maurizio Evangelista Grandma - by Toti Bellone The secret of fire - by Antonio Belpiede Half-open - by Carlo Alberto Augieri (De finibus terrae / The ends of the earth) - by Anita Piscazzi Gargano Olive trees - by Joseph Tusiani With tight long bites - by Rita Rucco The Traveller - by Marcello Comitini Greetings from - by Joseph Tusiani (to life) - by Marco F. D’Astice Deep in the desecrated country - by Tommaso Di Ciaula I was born on the 21st in Springtime - by Alda Merini Late spring - by Adeodato Piazza Nicolai These lemons - by Ernesto Treccani Of dreams and tatters - by Joseph Tusiani My grandmother’s wrinkled hands - by Giovanna Nosarti Freedom - by Marcello Comitini It’ll be a sentence handed down by the fathers - by Teodora Mastrototaro the suitcase - by Alessio Laterza I need - by Maurizio Evangelista Village Village - by Daniele Giancane i was reading the story of stories of stories - by Robert Viscusi Crossing the Murgia - by Sergio D’Amaro Murmur and a pearl - by Joseph Tusiani If you glimpse - by Tommaso Di Ciaula tuning can be difficult if you strain at it - by Robert Viscusi It’s a good omen - by Cristanziano Serricchio For love - by Luigi Fontanella Dear words that you hear - by Cristanziano Serricchio Ants and children play nearby - by Cristanziano Serricchio The Celestial City - by Luigi Fontanella A glance at the stars - by Tommaso Di Ciaula When I went back to my town in the South - by Vittorio Bodini We live in a spell - by Vittorio Bodini You don’t know the South - by Vittorio Bodini Wishing for a Wrong Number - by Joseph Tusiani warandpeace: from without to will be - by Walter Vergallo Song of Bicentennial - by Joseph Tusiani A long war - by Tommaso Di Ciaula let’s make ourselves a bridge - by Robert Viscusi