Giuseppe Ungaretti Poems

This mutilated tree gives
Me support, left in this pot-hole
It has the bitterness of a circus
Before or after the show.
...

Suddenly
the limpid
stupor
of the immensity
...

What regiment d'you belong to
brothers?

Word shaking
in the night
...

Star, my only star,
in the poverty of the night, alone,
for me, alone, you shine,
in loneliness you shine;
...

Magic moon, you are so consumed
that, breaking the silence,
you put on the old ilexes of the rise,
a slippery veil.
...

Cease murdering the dead.
If you hope not to perish, if you
Want sound of them again,
Stop crying out, cease
...

A whole night long
crouched close
to one of our men
butchered
...

They come back high to burn the tales.

They will fall with the leaves on the first wind.

But that another breath come,
new sparkling will come back.
...

That negligible bit of sand which slides
Without a sound and settles in the hourglass,
And the fleeting impressions on the fleshy-pink,
The perishable fleshy-pink, of a cloud…
...

That negligible bit of sand which slides
Without a sound and settles in the hourglass,
And the fleeting impressions on the fleshy-pink,
The perishable fleshy-pink, of a cloud…
...