.
You appeared at the gate
In a red dress
To tell me you are the flame
That consumes and yet still burns
Again
A thorn from your carmine
Rose has pricked my finger
So that I may taste my blood, as I have yours
Loitering at the end of that street
That tears the sky
Apart from within
Long ago I knew
Age ripping open its heart for love
Could only lose
That was on a Monday
To hold hands
And talk pleasantly
We could find refuge only
In a sad garden
Of the convulsive city
In a red dress
To tell me you are the flame
That consumes and yet still burns
Again
A thorn from your carmine
Rose has pricked my finger
So that I may taste my blood, as I have yours
Loitering at the end of that street
That tears the sky
Apart from within
Long ago I knew
Age ripping open its heart for love
Could only lose
That was on a Monday
To hold hands
And talk pleasantly
We could find refuge only
In a sad garden
Of the convulsive city
Nude with orange-red cloth: Egon Schiele, n.d.
12 Settembre 1966
Sei comparsa al portone
in un vestito rosso
per dirmi che sei fuoco
che consuma e riaccende.Una spina mi ha punto
delle tue rose rosse
perché succhiasse al dito,
come già tuo, il mio sangue.Percorremmo la strada
che lacera il rigoglio
della selvaggia altura,
ma già da molto tempo
sapevo che soffrendo con temeraria fede,
l’età per vincere non conta.Era di lunedì,
per stringerci le mani
e parlare felici
non si trovò rifugio
che in un giardino triste
della città convulsa.
Standing woman in red: Egon Schiele, 1913
Giuseppe Ungaretti: 12 Settembre 1966 (12 September 1966) from Dialogo (Dialogue), 1968: translated by TC