Marco Fazzini

Marco Fazzini has written and edited articles and books on postcolonial literatures, and translated into Italian some of the major English-language contemporary poets, including Hugh MacDiarmid, Norman MacCaig and Edwin Morgan. He is also the editor of Alba Literaria (2005), the first history of Scottish literature to be published outwith Scotland. His latest books reflect on poetry and songwriting, on translation, and on meetings with poets (Conversations with Scottish Poets, 2015, and The Saying of It, 2017). His most recent poetry collection is a trilingual collection entitled 21 poesie/poemas/poems. He teaches English and postcolonial literatures at the University of Ca’ Foscari (Venice) and is artistic director of the festival Poetry Vicenza.

Events

Border Crossings »

Reading: Marco Fazzini, Sally Evans

Thu 7 March | 11:30 - 12:30 | £4.50/£3.50 | The Town Hall, Queens Gardens, Supper Room

Poem

To the Moon

Moon that rises, with returning ways,
Give me your face, the young sort,
Though you are gone, and I count my days.

Always my friend, of a thousand stays,
Change my face, this life I’ve sought,
Though you are gone, and I count my days.

I’ve drifted so long, returned in dreams always,
But for me the mysteries remain uncaught,
Moon that rises, with returning ways.

There’s little, I know, to offer me these days,
I get lost in time that’s slow and unbought,
Though you are gone, and I count my days.

I hear rustling and the calling of horns plays,
Enlighten me in this dense wood where I’m caught,
Moon that rises, with returning ways.

I don’t want to be exposed to a false dream’s rays
But when I’m listening here I remain unfraught,
Moon that rises, with returning ways,
Though you are gone, and I count my days.

Marco Fazzini, tr. Douglas Reid Skinner

 

Alla luna

Luna che t’alzi, luna che torni,
Dammi il tuo volto, un giovane volto,
Benché tu sia morta, e conto i miei giorni.
 
Amica di sempre, di mille soggiorni,
Cambiami il volto, questa vita che ho colto,
Benché tu sia morta, e conto i miei giorni.
 
Ho a lungo vagato, sognato ritorni,
Ma i misteri di sempre mai ho risolto,
Luna che t’alzi, luna che torni.
 
Lo so che c’è poco ormai da propormi
Mi perdo nel tempo ch’è lento e m’è tolto,
Benché tu sia morta, e conto i miei giorni.
 
Odo frusciare e un richiamo di corni,
M’illumini spero nel bosco ch’è folto,
Luna che t’alzi, luna che torni.
 
A un finto sognare non voglio più espormi
Ma sono felice quando qui io t’ascolto,
Luna che t’alzi, luna che torni,
Benché tu sia morta, e conto i miei giorni.

 

Marco Fazzini

From 21 poesie/poemas/poems (Amos Edizioni, 2017)