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trans. by Adam Elgar
‘1998’ by Antonella Anedda Now the only blessing for the street is rain, and something in the trembling water we can follow like a light redeemed keeping close to the glow, to the stove where a meal is leavening. Nothing unlike the life we’ve always led: plates laid out like litter for the evening meal, a light through a chink in the wall open to lands of peace. Cedarwood flames along the edges of the field lighting the faces of the absent, their initials erased by the latest eruption: no pain, just hands swatting away the smoke, the night within night. A crack opens. (Literal version) Now it is only rain that blesses the street and in the water that trembles [there is] a kind of redeemed light to follow. It will only be a small distance from the radiance. From the oven where the food rises with brown clouds all scarcely different from the life of always: something rejected in the gesture which places the dishes for the evening meal a light in the crevice of the wall opened to lands of peace. Fire of cedar along the edges of the field. Thus we will see the faces of the absent their initials overwhelmed by the volcanic pebbles no pain but the hands moving to send away the smoke and the night within the night: a crack. (Original) Ora è solo pioggia che benedice la strada e nell'acqua che trema quasi una luce redenta da seguire. Sarà una piccola distanza dal fulgore. Dal forno dove il cibo si innalza alle nuvole brune tutto appena diverso dalla vita di sempre: uno scarto nel gesto che depone i piatti per la sera una luce nella crepa del muro schiusa verso terre di pace. Fuoco di cedro lungo i bordi del campo. Così vedremo i volti degli assenti le iniziali dei nomi travolte dai lapilli nessun dolore ma il moto delle mani che allontanano il fumo e notte tra la notte: una fessura. |