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;
...

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

Like this stone of
San Michele
...

Of these houses
nothing
but fragments of memory
...

I am a poet, a unanimous
cry, am
a cleat of dreams
...

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…
...