Un sasso tondo, levigato,
colto e scagliato con un gesto d’ira
che mi avrebbe colpito in piena fronte,
non questo silenzio acuminato
dritto nel cuore senza sparger sangue. ~Marcello Comitini
Roughly, (and very ineptly) translated–
A round stone, polished,
picked and hurled in a gesture of ire
which would’ve hit me square on the brow,
not this sharp silence
straight to the heart without shedding blood.
Lovely. Been a while since I last visited. What better thing to read than a short-sweet poem? 🙂
There's something haunting about the silence mentioned in this point…that sort of thing that usually relished yet, in this moment, is a painful thing.
Beautiful. Thank you for translating this.
this is so lovely 🙂
Thanks, Rosalind, do you speak Italian?
Mina– well, when it is your Muse, you'd rather not have silence at any cost 🙂
Thanks Miranda. I'll def be using that Weed sentence.
Al, thanks. Yes, it is Italian, which I speak, but am still learning.
Misha, thanks. Yep, the meaning came across, but the Italian is infinitely more beautiful when read.
Tonja, I'd rather not have silence from my Muse, or from anyone I love.
Stephen, it is the wounds that don't bleed that hurt the most, especially wounds in the heart.
Well, I guess if no blood is shed, then its okay. I think.
Interesting. I think I'd rather have the silence.
Very beautiful. I think you translated it very well, since I could understand what the poem was trying to say. 🙂
I don't think it was ineptly translated. This was a beautiful poem. Although I bet the Italian (it was Italian, wasn't it?) was very good as well.
Very beautiful and profound.
You can certainly use my weed sentence. Lol it's all yours.
Yes. I totally get this. There've definitely been times I'd have preferred a physical pain to the emotional.
Some Dark Romantic
That's beautiful (and very nicely translated too 🙂