4

Inno alla bellezza

Posted by Manu Mattos on 21.7.10 in













Vieni tu dal cielo profondo o sorgi dall'abisso, Beltà?
Il tuo sguardo, infernale e divino, versa,
mischiandoli, beneficio e delitto: per questo ti si può
comparare al vino.

Riunisci nel tuo occhio il tramonto e l'aurora, diffondi
profumi come una sera di tempesta; i tuoi baci sono
un filtro, la tua bocca un'anfora, che rendono audace
il fanciullo, l'eroe vile.

Sorgi dal nero abisso o discendi dagli astri? Il
Destino incantato segue le tue gonne come un cane:
tu semini a casaccio la gioia e i disastri, hai imperio
su tutto, non rispondi di nulla.

Cammini sopra i morti, Beltà, e ti ridi di essi, fra i tuoi
gioielli l'Orrore non è il meno affascinante e il Delitto,
che sta fra i tuoi gingilli più cari, sul tuo ventre
orgoglioso danza amorosamente.

La farfalla abbagliata vola verso di te, o candela, e
crepita, fiammeggia e dice: "Benediciamo questa
fiaccola!" L'innamorato palpitante chinato sulla bella
sembra un morente che accarezzi la propria tomba.

Venga tu dal cielo o dall'inferno, che importa, o
Beltà, mostro enorme, pauroso, ingenuo; se il tuo
occhio, e sorriso, se il tuo piede, aprono per me la
porta d'un Infinito adorato che non ho conosciuto?

Da Satana o da Dio, che importa? Angelo o Sirena,
che importa se tu - fata dagli occhi vellutati, profumo,
luce, mia unica regina - fai l'universo meno orribile e
questi istanti meno gravi?

Charles Baudelaire

1

She Walks in Beauty

Posted by Manu Mattos on 18.7.10 in

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens over her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and over that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron

3

Going for Water

Posted by Manu Mattos on 12.7.10 in


















The well was dry beside the door,
And so we went with pail and can
Across the fields behind the house
To seek the brook if still it ran;

Not loth to have excuse to go,
Because the autumn eve was fair
(Though chill), because the fields were ours,
And by the brook our woods were there.

We ran as if to meet the moon
That slowly dawned behind the trees,
The barren boughs without the leaves,
Without the birds, without the breeze.

But once within the wood, we paused
Like gnomes that hid us from the moon,
Ready to run to hiding new
With laughter when she found us soon.

Each laid on other a staying hand
To listen ere we dared to look,
And in the hush we joined to make
We heard, we knew we heard the brook.

A note as from a single place,
A slender tinkling fall that made
Now drops that floated on the pool
Like pearls, and now a silver blade.

Robert Frost

4

Ah, Sunflower!

Posted by Manu Mattos on 9.7.10 in













Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done;

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go!

William Blake

1

Anyone lived in a pretty how town

Posted by Manu Mattos on 4.7.10 in


















anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

E.E. Cummings

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