Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Paolo Ruffilli

VIDEO

Yes, the wonderful colours
            of video,
the pleasant random choosing,
sipping, savoring
the flavour of soft dessert.
Grasping life
            seasoned before,
pre-chewed and digested like this.
Surrendering to the game
of statues, to the neutral glossy
motion
            in which
nothing really exists any more,
at a distance
            that entertains
only for that little bit
that one is touched by it.
The same prearranged fantasy,
outside itself, hatched,
hypnotized, melted down.
The water
            is held back no longer
it’s a surge that floods, drowns,
swallows you down.

Video

Video

Sì, la splendida cromia
            del video,
il dolce stare alla ventura
a prendere, sorbire, a degustare
i morbidi dessert.
A cogliersi la vita
            già condita,
così, premasticata e digerita.
Per consegnarsi al gioco
delle pose, al neutro moto
patinato
            in cui
più niente esiste veramente,
in una lontananza
            che intrattiene
ma per quel tanto solo
che uno sia sfiorato.
La stessa predisposta fantasia,
fuori di sé, covata
si ipnotizza, si dissolve.
Più non trattiene
            l’acqua
è un fiotto che dilaga
che affoga, che si ingoia.
Close

VIDEO

Yes, the wonderful colours
            of video,
the pleasant random choosing,
sipping, savoring
the flavour of soft dessert.
Grasping life
            seasoned before,
pre-chewed and digested like this.
Surrendering to the game
of statues, to the neutral glossy
motion
            in which
nothing really exists any more,
at a distance
            that entertains
only for that little bit
that one is touched by it.
The same prearranged fantasy,
outside itself, hatched,
hypnotized, melted down.
The water
            is held back no longer
it’s a surge that floods, drowns,
swallows you down.

VIDEO

Yes, the wonderful colours
            of video,
the pleasant random choosing,
sipping, savoring
the flavour of soft dessert.
Grasping life
            seasoned before,
pre-chewed and digested like this.
Surrendering to the game
of statues, to the neutral glossy
motion
            in which
nothing really exists any more,
at a distance
            that entertains
only for that little bit
that one is touched by it.
The same prearranged fantasy,
outside itself, hatched,
hypnotized, melted down.
The water
            is held back no longer
it’s a surge that floods, drowns,
swallows you down.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère