Poem By Paolo Ruffilli

How life
begins and ends
(perhaps by chance?)
the luminous track
the wake that leaves
behind all
that was loved
or unloved
or at least unknown
joy or strife:
all is cast into
the blind vase
in the arms of darkness.
And yet meanwhile
the faded trace
of all things
flourishes anew.
The shadow and the smell
lees than the colour
the evocation
of the rose.

Translated by Boris Peters

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Other poems of RUFFILLI


Thus, I suddenly
catch myself in the mirror
in a stifling embrace
while I project myself


I know what I have felt
again and again
and never has it been
something abstract


And all at once
deep in the tunnel
that goes on and on,
in the dead air

Whenever I Go

Then, at last
I get moving
the urge to stay


How many times
have I left
before daybreak or
at dead of night


I think of myself
whose hand caresses
the willing body
lying open to any assault