Tu muovi la rosa di Hafiz,
cresci bambini-bestiole,
respiri da spalle ottagonali
di rustiche chiese bovine.Dipinta di rauca ocra sei
tutta oltre il monte, lontana:
solo una figurina, qui, già asciutta
dell’acqua, su un piattino.OSIP MANDEL’ŜTAM – VIAGGIO IN ARMENIA I [A cura di S. Vitale, Adelphi]
Armenia, you cradle the rose of Hafiz,
and nurse your brood of wild children.
Your breathing is the breathing of rough peasant churches,
with their octagonal, bullish shoulders.Coloured with hoarse ochre,
you lie far over the mountain,
while all that is here is a transfer,
soaked free in a saucer of water.OSIP MANDEL’ŜTAM – THE MOSCOW NOTEBOOKS [Translated by Richard and Elizabeth McKane]
sulgreto 