CLAUDIA PICCINNO

CLAUDIA

PICCINNO

And Now It's Winter

She didn't deserve sloth or sadness.

But by now she knows that

her triumph of emotions

never knew reciprocity.

It was the dazzling

of another dimension,

an inthymate need for an escape.

And it will pass

like a meteor on an August night,

because the happiness

is the illusion of fools.

And now it's winter.

E ORA E’ INVERNO

Non meritava ignavia né tristezza.

Ma ormai sa che quel tripudio di emozioni

mai conobbe reciprocità.

Fu l’abbaglio di un’altra dimensione,

intrinseca esigenza di una fuga.

E passerà…

come meteora in una notte d’agosto,

perché felicità è l’illusione degli stolti.

E ora è inverno.

Roaring Rails

Filters the light from the cirrus

in the interspace of parallel solitudes.

Accomplice the sea to muffle silences

to the looks of the absent-minded traveler

his nose is overlooking from roaring rails

to steal any lost perfumes.

The fence reminds me how long the winter is

in the heart of our Europe ...

Rotaie ruggenti

Filtra la luce dal cirro

nell'interspazio di solitudini parallele.

Complice il mare a ovattare silenzi

agli sguardi del viaggiatore distratto

che affaccia il naso da rotaie ruggenti

per carpire profumi perduti.

Il recinto mi ricorda quanto sia lungo l'inverno

nel cuore di questa nostra Europa...

Up The Hour X

If I could sit in the hollow of your arms

like a mollusk in a concave shell

without thoughts or anxieties to obey.

If I could believe in fairy tales,

in Trilly's magic dust.

If only I could count happy commitments,

instead of filling out health bulletins.

If ... If ... If ...

Infinite and the ramble of mind

when prospects are others.

I have counted the reserves for the winter

that you had accumulated in the garage

and I wonder if they will be enough

until the hour x.

What a heavy load you left us,

the preparations for another farewell.

FINO ALL’ORA X

Se io potessi accomodarmi

nell'incavo delle tue braccia

come mollusco in una concava conchiglia

senza pensieri ne ansie a cui obbedire.

Se io potessi credere alle favole,

alla polvere magica di Trilly.

Se solo potessi contare gli impegni felici,

anzichè compilare bollettini sanitari.

Se… Se… Se…

Infinito e il vaneggiare della mente

quando le prospettive sono altre.

Ho contato le riserve per l'inverno

che avevi accumulato in garage

e mi domando

se basteranno fino all'ora x.

Che carico pesante ci hai lasciato,

i preparativi per un altro addio.

CLAUDIA PICCINNO

CLAUDIA PICCINNO was born in southern Italy in 1970, but moved very young to northern Italy where she currently lives and teaches in a primary school. Her poems are in more than one hundred anthologies, she is a member of the jury in numerous national and international literary awards. She is the Director of the Poetry Word Festival for Europe. She has received awards in important national and international poetry competitions. Her poem "In blu" is reproduced on a majolica stele on the seafront of Santa Caterina di Nardo (Le). She has also written numerous critical essays or prefaces to the books of other poets.