Poeżija u Informazzjoni - Poetry & Information
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  • Arizona

    Posted on March 29th, 2009 Admin No comments

    Jiena d-deżert għatxan tal-Ariżona.

    Bi nhar ħuġġieġa ta’ nirien imdendla.
    fuq baħħ etern.
    Ramel mikwi jinkalja
    igerref u jingiref.
    Xtieli muxgħara jriegħxu bit-tixwik,
    kaktus iniggeż qalb il-fwar li jitla’
    bhal ħolma mriegħda minn ġol-art ħamrana.
    Ħolma donnha miraġġ.
    Ħolma ta’ għatx.
    Treddin id-demm idamdam ġol-qorriegħa,
    idamdam biex jinħeles
    f’għejun bla xaba’.
    Il-bogħod skeletri mtertqa
    jitriegħdu z-zkuk imqarqċa.

    Jiena d-deżert għatxan ta’l-Ariżona.

    Bil-lejl ħolma ta’ serħ u poeżija.
    Il-ward tal-kaktus jitla’ f’għaxwa ħamra.
    Iz-zkuk bajdana
    b’dirgħajhom imberrħin jinbidlu f’arpi
    tal-fewga ħelwa.
    Bħal karba ta’ kitarra
    imkebbsa b’dawl il-qamar
    minni
    għanja tinsilet.

    I’m the parched Arizona desert.

    By day a blaze of flames dawdling
    over an everlasting emptiness.
    Desiccated sand cauterizing
    busily scratching and being scratched.
    Garigue vegetation thistle-stiff.
    Cacti prickling amid fumes mounting
    like a dream curdled off the ruddy earth.
    A dream like a mirage.
    A dream like thirst.
    Blood rounding up with a tam-tam in the scalp
    a tam-tam for the freedom
    of insatiable fountains
    In the distance barkless trunks
    tremble like dismembered skeletons

    I’m the parched Arizona desert.

    By night a dream of rest and poetry.
    Cacti blooming in a red swoon.
    White branches
    with their arms wide open becoming harp-strings
    for the candied breeze.
    Like a guitar groan
    kindled by moonlight
    out of me
    a song is drawn.

    (Translated by Peter Serracino-Inglott)

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