Wednesday, March 20, 2019

3 poems from Lidia Chiarelli


Lidia Chiarelli (Torino, Italy). Artist and writer, co-founder, with Aeronwy Thomas, of the art-literary Movement Immagine & Poesia (2007). Award -winning poet.
Her poems are translated multilingually.


Garden in October

In my Autumn garden I was fain
To mourn among my scattered roses
Christina Rossetti

Colours and sounds
mix in the October garden
where dying roses feed your soul.

Amber brown leaves waltz on the boughs
as you, Queen of Pre-Raphaelite beauty
discover wonder in
Autumn’s languid sun
of this ephemeral reign.

And in the dappled light
your words become
a subtle song
a hymn of devotion
to the fugitive hour
to the vanishing moment.


Bindu muna Gumiguru

Mubindu rangu reMatsutso ndaida
Kuchema pakati pemaruva matsuku aparadzirwa
Christina Rossetti

Mivara nemimanzi
Zvinobatana mubindu raGumiguru
Apo maruva matsvuku anofa achigutisa ninga dzako dzepfungwa

Uromba kutsvukirira mashizha anotamba achitenderera muviri wemuti
Kunge iwe, Mambokadzi weguva yakatangira runako rweRaphaelite
Wana zvishamiso mune
Zuva rakapomodzwa reMatsutso
Rekutongo uku kwenguva shoma

Uye mune mwenje mivara mivara
Mazwi ako anova
Rwiyo rusingaburitse zvese pachena
Rwiyo rwokurumbidza kuvimbika
Kune iyi nguva yakahwanda
Kune nhano ino inonyangarika


November sky

I love that sky of steel
Charlotte Brontë

Flocks of black  crows
re-write
the winter sky
with ancient signs.
As an impalpable veil
the cold haze
wraps
the barren moor
and your eyes
gradually
get lost
into that
magic metallic
light

Denga remunaMbudzi

Ndinoda iro denga resimbi
Charlotte Brontë

Ungano yemakunguwo matema
anonyorazve
denga rechirimo
nenyora dzechinyakare.
Kunge vharidziro yokumeso isingaonekwi
Mhute tete inotonhora
Inosunganidza
Gokora ivhu risina zviberekwa
Uye maziso ako
Zvishoma nezvishoma
Anorasikira
Mune iyi
Shamiso yenderama
mwenje


Poppy Red

I put my hands among the flames
Sylvia Plath

Of that summer
you had no memories
only red poppies
small flames
that burned your soul
a thousand poppies
open wounds
bleeding
inside you.
Your journey in search of oblivion
started in the soundless  hours of the day
now lost
in the barren paths of the mind.
Then  long sunset strips
sad omens
stained the sky red
slowly
surrounding  you
in deep muffled silence


Muti Mutsvuku Popi

Ndakaisa maoko angu pakati pemarimi
Sylvia Plath

Zvenguva iyi yezhizha
waiva usina kana ndangariro
kunze kwemiti yePopi mitsvuku
marimi emoto madiki
akapisa ninga dzepfungwa dzako
chiuru chemiti yePopi
maronda avhurwa patsva
ochururuka
mukati mako
rwendo rwako kutsvaga kunyangadika
rwakatanga munguva dzisinganzwikwe dzezuva
iye zvino dzarasika
munzira dzepfungwa dzisina zvibereko.
Zvakare marambi ezuva rodoka marefu
Shuvidziro dzakashata
dzinosvibisa denga dzvuku
zvinyoronyoro
dzinokutenderedza
mune runyararo rwakadzipirwa mukati kati



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