Poem By Paolo Ruffilli

How many times
have I left
before daybreak or
at dead of night
and often reluctantly
all irritation lost
and my mind on
the threshold of return.
Could they be piled
one on the other
all those roads
and stack those destinations
leaf upon leaf
what a continual drifting
what a monstrous tangle
of distances
would this form
on a map…
it would confirm
the sentence that you
will never find rest,
and yet show
how you will never
advance a span,
that the more you go
and the less you stay
you never arrive

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


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