Poem
Franco Buffoni
Of Poetry
Haven\'t you already filled upThe entire exercise book?
Like roots in the gravel-covered ground
The real labyrinth is within you,
And if it lacks the name of brain
It\'s called the gut:
In plain words,
Tale or tailoring?
But at last even Alice\'s sister
Sees the dream.
© Translation: 2002, Franco Buffoni
From: The Shadow of Mount Rosa
Publisher: Gradiva Publications, New York, 2002
From: The Shadow of Mount Rosa
Publisher: Gradiva Publications, New York, 2002
Di poesia
Di poesia
Non hai forse già riempitoTutto l\'eserciziario?
Come radice nel suolo di ghiaia
Il vero labirinto ti sta dentro,
E se non ha nome cervello
Si chiama l\'intestino:
In povere parole,
Storia o sartoria?
Ma infine anche Alice\'s sister
Vede il sogno.
© 2002, Franco Buffoni
From: Del maestro in bottega
Publisher: Empirìa,
From: Del maestro in bottega
Publisher: Empirìa,
Poems
Poems of Franco Buffoni
Close
Of Poetry
Haven\'t you already filled upThe entire exercise book?
Like roots in the gravel-covered ground
The real labyrinth is within you,
And if it lacks the name of brain
It\'s called the gut:
In plain words,
Tale or tailoring?
But at last even Alice\'s sister
Sees the dream.
© 2002, Franco Buffoni
From: The Shadow of Mount Rosa
Publisher: 2002, Gradiva Publications, New York
From: The Shadow of Mount Rosa
Publisher: 2002, Gradiva Publications, New York
Of Poetry
Haven\'t you already filled upThe entire exercise book?
Like roots in the gravel-covered ground
The real labyrinth is within you,
And if it lacks the name of brain
It\'s called the gut:
In plain words,
Tale or tailoring?
But at last even Alice\'s sister
Sees the dream.
© 2002, Franco Buffoni
From: The Shadow of Mount Rosa
Publisher: 2002, Gradiva Publications, New York
From: The Shadow of Mount Rosa
Publisher: 2002, Gradiva Publications, New York
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