DEDICA: 3. Poem by Gian Mario Villalta
DEDICA: 3.
Persuasi, dedicati, non costretti
a questa luce dischiusa dalla terra
- appartenere
alla ruggine
sbriciolata che sbocca dalle gronde
la finzione di un sangue impetuoso
- appartenere
alle sedie rimaste fuori
e macchiano la paglia grosse gocce grosse
gocce che dimoiano
lo zucchero nel fondo delle tazze
- a questa voce
non pronunciata, tesa
tra la testa e le vertebre, che dice "basta,
prego - cenere" infinitamente
appartenere
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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2/22/2026 7:42:13 AM # 1.0.0
[Villalta’s poetry.. As the author himself affirms: ] ''... What I would like to do, .., is to let things enter me so deeply that I can simply say how they are. Technically it works through simplifications, passages and exclusions like in all art forms, with rules to respect that are born of a basic idea: let reality pass, let it enter into the movements of the body, into the way of seeing things, and try to give it a form.... ''