Haiku by Rufliyandhie Rambe

 All rights of the texts presented here remain with the author.

 

heat haze

corruption crimes very often involve a number of names

twittering

the witnesses' statements varied at trial

bee

he winced in pain on his speeding bicycle

nest

no more junk in the kitchen

twitter

a pair of eyeballs concentrated on a lens mounted on the gun

spring soil

residents were shocked by the discovery of the fetus

spring sea

the flow of information is never devoid of human trafficking issues

balloon

the little boy immediately picked up a rolled piece of paper that had fallen on the floor

first butterfly

my neighbor has returned from abroad having plastic surgery

chainsaw

the weeping willow was so close to the building

valentine's day

has my order arrived at her house?

soap bubble

my income is mediocre

spring light

the instructors painstakingly provide guidance to the farmers

spring soil

tear gas spray succeeded in dispersing the crowd's concentration

spring ballad

the courtroom is never empty of divorce cases

migration

electric cables along the road are covered in swallows

suminagashi
traces of the past stuck in his painting

rain
the clouds had been bribed with tons of salt

kite
many people want to be Superman

Heroes' Day*

warriors' wives live in rickety huts

*In Indonesia it is celebrated on November 10 to commemorate the 1945 Battle of Surabaya. haikua

 

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Two Poems by Amelia Rosselli (Translation by Maurizio Brancaleoni)

 

*All rights reserved. No part of the following translations may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior authorization. For information, send an e-mail to mbmbrancaleoni@gmail.com.*

 

[Amelia Rosselli, “Le poesie”, Garzanti, p.520]

 

A face of yours does have human contours

a gesture of yours is really springlike and

a looking at me of yours is the first of the things

I think of when – in the vivid excelling

of the afternoon clouds – very slowly I

look for you.

And if dying is an everyday thing

your glance too has evil lights

and a sign of shyness or of love of yours

does nothing but delay the horror

of a day.

 

 

[Amelia Rosselli, “Le poesie”, Garzanti, p.612]

 

Hunger blew and it was extreme, the symptom

or the (singular) single fit of an extreme

passion, sincere – with its spreading

iconoclastic clothes on the ground and on the

sidewalk – of a lost value and remotely

what I’d have wanted to do. Sincerity

(oh fit of the last passion), sincere

it was, in its waking up at the forbidden hour

and in taking out, from each brush or toothpaste

what could be the good hour

the ungraspable moment now that the matter

is delicate; and you would count the hours, of a

possible prize of yours, and you would count the future

as if it were coins!

 

Amelia Rosselli (1930-1996) is considered one of the most important Italian poets of the past century. Born in Paris in 1930, she had to flee to Switzerland and then to the U.S. after the murder of her father and her uncle at the hands of Fascist militias. Back in Italy in the late 40s, in 1950 she settled in Rome, where she would spend the rest of her life. While her early literary experiments were in French and English, most of her output was in her father's native language.

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