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Leopardi (1)

......... ........ INFINITY

Still I loved the high desert
And this hedge that the more distant horizon
cover under this scope. But living and contemplating

invent endless spaces beyond, of superhuman
Silences and deep
Tranquility for just
to disturb the heart. And receiving
The passing wind in its leaves -
Infinite silence, I'll
comparing this voice, and remember the everlasting
Seasons who died and those still living
of the rumor. Thus
In such immensity my thought dark
And lose myself in this sea is sweet

Leopardi in one five-stringed lyre, Translations of Philip Jaccottet , 1946-1995, nrf Gallimard

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's blog on the spoliation of the guide in Chamonix Ivano Ghirardini

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Supervielle Jules (4)

........... The bird life

bird pecking secret that we
And we do live together,
Thou who takest us and make us
a spout that nourishes and devours

Sometimes lark or raven
Of your fireworks ambiguous
you do, you break the building
We are your songs live,

You are the bird of our blood
Who from the source to the mouth,
harms self and drinks to his injuries,
To go repeating,

you your wings over us plates
If done well to fly,
You know that we remain faithful
But in order to disturb us,

Bird the human arcade,
Under your pecks inflamed
We remain your fighters
A head-on with time

And his embrace of smoke.

Jules Supervielle The Fable of the world, followed Oblivious memory, nrf Poetry / Gallimard

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landscape (7)

"The landscape is the place where the earth and sky touch "
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Jaccottet Philippe (9)

................... AGRIGENTO,
................... January 1

A little above this place to rare targets, we seek
the stairs where the sea is visible, or at least
would be if the weather was clear.
- We traveled to the mild air,
for oblivion of death, for the Golden Fleece ... Despite the fact
path, we remain at the edge, and
not saying that we should be hasty, nor
this oversight, forgot himself soon after ... -
It begins to rain. We changed this year.
You see only regret our soul is doomed:
must, even in Sicily, accept on our hands a thousand thorns
rain ... until tomorrow.

Philippe Jaccottet The Owl and Other Poems , nrf Gallimard

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Roselyne Sibille, Lumière froissée , Encres Liliane-Eve Brendel, Voix d'encre