Someone tells me I am mysterious.
I smile, in a mysterious way.
Flowing cloaks and midnight trysts
Are not in the repertoire of my mystery
Which is essentially a matter
Of hiding from myself.
Some people are afraid to cry
For fear they will never stop.
Some days I am afraid to laugh
(Polite laughs don’t count)
For fear my face will split open
Like a pumpkin, all seeds
Splattering into tears.
James Laughlin, Angelica. Fragment from an Autobiography
Qualcuno mi dice che sono misteriosa.
Sorrido, in modo misterioso.
Mantelli al vento e appuntamenti notturni
Non rientrano nel repertorio del mio mistero
Che consiste soprattutto
Nel nascondermi da me stessa.
Alcune persone hanno paura di piangere
Perché temono di non smettere più.
A volte ho paura di ridere
(Le risatine educate non contano)
Perché temo che il mio volto si spezzi in due
Come una zucca, tutti i semi
Sparsi in lacrime.
James Laughlin, Angelica. Frammento di un’autobiografia
Traduzione di Rita Severi
This is from a book I studied at University (translated by one of my English Literature teachers).
There’s so much about me in these verses that I thought it was a pity not to share them. I hope you will enjoy them, too!
This post belongs to a blog circle called Sisterhood Stories. Please read Laura’s entry and complete the circle! 🙂
Have a poetic week ahead,
