Selected Poetry and Prose of Andrea Zanzotto

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Overview

Andrea Zanzotto is widely considered Italy’s most influential living poet. The first comprehensive collection in thirty years to translate this master European poet for an English-speaking audience, The Selected Poetry and Prose of Andrea Zanzotto includes the very best poems from fourteen of his major books of verse and a selection of thirteen essays that helps illuminate themes in his poetry as well as elucidate key theoretical underpinnings of his thought. Assembled with the collaboration of Zanzotto himself and featuring a critical introduction, thorough annotations, and a generous selection of photographs and art, this volume brings an Italian master to vivid life for American readers.

“Now, in [this book], American readers can get a just sense of  [Zanzotto’s] true range and extraordinary originality.”—Eric Ormsby, New York Sun

“What I love here is the sense of a voice directly speaking. Throughout these translations, indeed from early to late, the great achievement seems to be the way they achieve a sense of urgent address.”—Eamon Grennan, American Poet

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Editorial Reviews

Scott Slovic
“Andrea Zanzotto is one of the world’s great nature poets, and this beautiful collection makes his poetry and prose amply available to English-speaking audiences for the first time. His work reveals the inextricable attachments between human experience and the physical world, attachments charged with extraordinary emotion.”
Scott Bryson
“Zanzotto emphasizes the importance of place while simultaneously stressing that even the smallest corner of the world is beyond our ultimate understanding. In his poetry there’s a line-by-line beauty and a fundamental humility that, when combined with his complex moral and philosophical vision, leave a reader with a stimulated and enriched heart and an agitated and excited mind.”
John Elder
“The range of Andrea Zanzotto’s poetic achievements is stupendous—including his subtle and sustained dialogue with the landscapes of his native Veneto, his discerning appropriation of themes from Virgil and Dante, and his integration into verse of etymology, dialect, and drawing. Yet, throughout these diverse modes of writing, the imagery always remains vividly arresting, the voice authentic and engaging. Just as Stephen Mitchell’s renderings of Rilke and David Hinton’s of Wang Wei have done so much to enhance interest in those artists, these translations by Patrick Barron and his colleagues will make Zanzotto indispensable to English-speaking lovers of poetry.”—John Elder, Middlebury College
The New York Sun - Eric Ormsby
"Zanzotto is one of those rare poets who's grown wilder as he's gotten older; the poems of his old age are as strange and wacky as ever. . . . For six decades now he has been producing his astonishing verse."
Annali d'italianistica - Federica Santini
“Given the importance of the chiseling of words operated by Zanzotto in all of his poetical works, the translations acquire utter importance, and they most often succeed

completely in rendering Zanzotto’s experimental wording in all of its muting and translucent opacity…. Showing an attention in the selection of Zanzotto’s works that goes beyond the desire to choose only the poet’s most representative texts and following, rather, a conceptual thread, Barron succeeds in giving us a volume in which the three ever-shifting elements that constitute the basis of Zanzotto’s poetry—landscape, language, and poetic subject—are showcased.”

Times Literary Supplement - Peter Hainsworth
"Translations of [Zanzotto] have tended to be sporadic and difficult to come by. The University of Chicago Press has now produced lavish hardback anthologies...with generous portions, in English and Italian, of all of the manin collections of verse, plus (in English only) selections from their prose wiritings.... Zanzotto deserve[s] to be much better known outside Italy...the translations are always serviceable at at times of high quality."
MLR - Francesca Southerden=Rossi
"This inviting volume represents the most complete anthology to date of Zanzotto's work in English translation, including an ample selection of poems . . . and thirteen prose pieces that present some of the central ideas underpinning the creative project of an author considered to be one of the most original voices operating in Italy today."
The New York Sun

"Now, in The Selected Poetry and Prose of Andrea Zanzotto: A Bilingual Edition, American readers can get a just sense of [Zanzotto's ] true range and extraordinary originality. Mr. Barron has provided most of the translations, together with a perceptive introduction and a number of quite lovely illustrations (including several impish portraits of the poet himself), but he has also included translations by other hands, including the earlier versions by [Brian] Swann and [Ruth] Feldman."—Eric Ormsby, The New York Sun

— Eric Ormsby

Annali d'italianistica

“Given the importance of the chiseling of words operated by Zanzotto in all of his poetical works, the translations acquire utter importance, and they most often succeed completely in rendering Zanzotto’s experimental wording in all of its muting and translucent opacity…. Showing an attention in the selection of Zanzotto’s works that goes beyond the desire to choose only the poet’s most representative texts and following, rather, a conceptual thread, Barron succeeds in giving us a volume in which the three ever-shifting elements that constitute the basis of Zanzotto’s poetry—landscape, language, and poetic subject—are showcased.”—Federica Santini, Annali d’italianistica

— Federica Santini

Times Literary Supplement

"Translations of [Zanzotto] have tended to be sporadic and difficult to come by. The University of Chicago Press has now produced lavish hardback anthologies...with generous portions, in English and Italian, of all of the manin collections of verse, plus (in English only) selections from their prose wiritings.... Zanzotto deserve[s] to be much better known outside Italy...the translations are always serviceable at at times of high quality."—Peter Hainsworth, Times literary Supplement

— Peter Hainsworth

Choice
"This massive, handsomely designed, and copiously illustrated volume is the best possible introduction to [Zanzotto's] work, giving as it does an excellent impression of the scale of his acheivement....Zanzotto is a major voice in world poetry, one that urgently needs to be heard in the current political and social climate (not the least for his profound and consistent engagement with ecological themes). This splendid volume makes that possible."
New York Sun

"Zanzotto is one of those rare poets who's grown wilder as he's gotten older; the poems of his old age are as strange and wacky as ever. . . . For six decades now he has been producing his astonishing verse."

— Eric Ormsby

MLR

"This inviting volume represents the most complete anthology to date of Zanzotto's work in English translation, including an ample selection of poems . . . and thirteen prose pieces that present some of the central ideas underpinning the creative project of an author considered to be one of the most original voices operating in Italy today."

— Francesca Southerden=Rossi

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780226978840
  • Publisher: University of Chicago Press
  • Publication date: 3/1/2007
  • Edition description: Bilingual Edition
  • Pages: 336
  • Product dimensions: 6.00 (w) x 9.00 (h) x 1.60 (d)

Meet the Author

 Patrick Barron is assistant professor of English at the University of Massachusetts–Boston. He is the recipient of a Fulbright Award, the Rome Prize, and a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts for the translation of the poetry of Andrea Zanzotto.

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Read an Excerpt

The Selected Poetry and Prose of Andrea Zanzotto A Bilingual Edition
The University of Chicago Press Copyright © 2007 The University of Chicago
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-226-97884-0



Chapter One Selected Poetry

da A che valse? Versi, 1938-1942 from What was the point?: Verse, 1938-1942 [1970]

* * *

Nell'era della silenziosa pace vitrei villaggi nelle aperte valli del cielo nascono. I sonni in figura di monti aspettano con le celate correnti i viandanti dai passi gravi sospinti dallo stimolo del vento. * * * Nei giorni delle insonni primavere mi verrà contro il vento che abbaglia, mi spingerà ai febbrili amori dimenticati alle mura delle umane città. Le porte aperte mostreranno oscuri vestiboli interminabili cortili. Nubi azzurrognole come ghiaccio saranno lontano, dove le sentinelle come monumenti al nulla fanno la guardia. * * * A questo ponte fi nisce il freddo del prato fi nisce il freddo del cielo e della cieca luce, fi nisce il freddo del tuo volto e del tuo cuore simile a una croce, finisce il sole con spine. * * * Le danze segrete delle acque e degli alberi intorno al sole domato io sento nel freddo del prato che affonda sotto il ponte. In the age of silent peace translucent villages are born in the open valleys of the sky. Slumbers in the shape of summits await with secret currents the heavy steps of wayfarers nudged along by the wind's urging. * * * In the days of sleepless springs the dazzling wind will hit, spurring me to feverish loves forgotten at the walls of human cities. The open doors will reveal dim vestibules endless courtyards. Clouds blue as ice will distantly linger, where the sentinels like monuments keep watch over nothing. * * * At this bridge the chill of the field ends the chill of the sky and the blind light ends, the chill of your face and your cross-like heart ends, the thorny sun ends. I sense the secret dances of the waters and the trees around the tamed sun in the cold of the field that sinks under the bridge.

da Dietro il paesaggio from Behind the Landscape [1951]

Indizi e luna La stella della primavera il dolce succo trae negli alberi giovani. La verde sera al suo specchio s'adorna, ha grandi insegne ormai la città. Cieli di giardino sorgete ancora dai vostri spazi: quella ch'era bambina e sorella dalla sua casa comprende e vede l'antico gelo dei monti, si stringe al petto il cuore esile come rosa. Dai portici, mercati eff ondono troppo colmi non colta e non venduta la messe del loro bene, indizi angosciosi di festa giacciono agli angoli delle piazze. Negli orti e nelle serre più lontane si sfogliano e si smarriscono le acque e la madre luna. Gli abitanti camminano abbagliati dal sonno. Indications and Moon The star of the spring draws the sweet sap into the young trees. The green evening dresses up in its mirror, by now the signs of the city loom large. Garden skies you still rise up from your spaces: she who was child and sister from her house understands and sees the ancient frost of the mountains, grasps to her breast her heart faint as a rose. From the porticos, markets pour forth excesses the harvest of their goods, fallow and unsold, distraught signs of celebration wallow about in the corners of piazzas. In the farthest gardens and greenhouses the waters and mother moon lose leaves and wander off. The residents walk about dazzled with drowsiness. Quanto a lungo Quanto a lungo tra il grano e tra il vento di quelle soffitte più alte, più estese che il cielo, quanto a lungo vi ho lasciate mie scritture, miei rischi appassiti. Con l'angelo e con la chimera con l'antico strumento col diario e col dramma che giocano le notti a vicenda col sole vi ho lasciate lassù perché salvaste dalle ustioni della luce il mio tetto incerto i comignoli disorientati le terrazze ove cammina impazzita la grandine: voi, ombra unica nell'inverno, ombra tra i dèmoni del ghiaccio. Tarme e farfalle dannose topi e talpe scendendo al letargo vi appresero e vi affinarono, su voi sagittario e capricorno inclinarono le fredde lance e l'acquario temperò nei suoi silenzi nelle sue trasparenze un anno stillante di sangue, una mia perdita inesplicabile. Già per voi con tinte sublimi di fresche antenne e tetti s'alzano intorno i giorni nuovi, già alcuno s'alza e scuote le muff e e le nevi dai mari; e se a voi salgo per cornici e corde verso il prisma che vi discerne verso l'aurora che v'ospita, il mio cuore trafitto dal futuro non cura i lampi e le catene che ancora premono ai confini. How Long How long amid the wheat and the wind of those garrets higher and wider than the sky, how long I have left you my writings, my withered risks. With the angel and chimera with the ancient tool with the diary and drama that the nights play one after the other with the sun I left you up there to save from the burning light my uncertain roof the bewildered chimney- tops the terraces where the crazed hail walks: you, solitary shadow in the winter, shadow among the demons of ice. Noxious moths and butterflies mice and moles dropping into hibernation grasped and whetted you, Sagittarius and Capricorn trained cold lances at you and Aquarius tempered in its silences in its transparencies a year dripping with blood, one of my inexplicable losses. Already for you with sublime tints of fresh antennae and roofs the new days crop up all around, already someone rises up and shakes the mold and the snows from the seas; and if I climb to you along ledges and cables towards the prism that gives form to you towards the dawn that shelters you, my heart transfixed by the future ignores the lightning fl ashes and chains that still press in at the edges. Ormai Ormai la primula e il calore ai piedi e il verde acume del mondo I tappeti scoperti le logge vibrate dal vento ed il sole tranquillo baco di spinosi boschi; il mio male lontano, la sete distinta come un'altra vita nel petto Qui non resta che cingersi intorno il paesaggio qui volgere le spalle. By Now By now the primrose and the warmth at your feet and the green insight of the world The uncovered carpets the loggias shaken by wind and sun tranquil worm of the thorny woods; my distant pain, distinct thirst like another life in the breast Here all that's left is to wrap the landscape around the self and turn your back. Là sovente nell'alba La sovente nell'alba dall'inferno mi destava il rombo lieve e il tremito degli azzurri vulcani. Tra i monti specchi eccelsi del primordio impigliava le gracili corna il cervo nato dalla neve; pullulavi alle fi nestre lava di primavera, vivente a me scendevi tra le spire degli evi deformi. O golfo della terra a me noto per sempre, dalle cui pieghe antiche spogli d'ombre balzano eventi; freddo rifugio cui gl'insoliti fiumi cingono il grembo, i tuoi sparsi elementi sono la mia solitaria gloria, i raggi del tuo sole non maturano che neve. Ma ancora negli abissi tuoi cercarti m'è caro, in ogni tua forma giaccio sepolto, del mio sangue ogni tua fonte esulta. Tu clemente ricorderai le immagini della mia vita. There Often in the Dawn There often in the dawn the light rumble and tremor of azure volcanoes awoke me from hell. Amidst the towering mountains primeval mirrors the deer born of the snow entangled his slender antlers; spring's lava you swarmed at the windows, living, you descended to me amidst the whorls of disfigured ages. O gulf of earth forever familiar to me, from whose ancient folds events spring naked of shadows; cold refuge whose womb the extraordinary rivers encircle, your scattered elements are my solitary glory, your sun's rays ripen nothing by snow. But in your abysses I still love to search for you, in your every form I lie buried, in my blood your every springhead exults. Temperate, you will remember the images of my life. Serica Schiava d'altre stagioni e della notte caverna di fango cadde la luna; dalle dighe che guidano le tenebre dal musco che occlude le valli dai rotti cancelli dell'alba si manifesta e sgorga acqua cruda di primavera. Ma il vostro sonno sazio di cibo, così mi sostenta, larve beate, che la terra ieri diroccata pesa di rose, esce il sole dal bocciolo di neve, vigore acquista ovunque buona calma dell'azzurro. Nella ricchezza del mattino vento e seta trama silenzi d'alberi, dagli alti parapetti delle selve dei monti e della neve. Nelle stanze moltiplicate da parvenze e solitudini sui piani eccelsi delle grate tra le mani lucide del cibo lungi resti da voi l'insidia innumerevole delle formiche. Silky Slave of other seasons and of the cavernous muddy night, the moon fell; from the embankments that guide the shadows from the moss that clogs the valleys from the broken gates of dawn spring's raw waters rise up and gush out. But your sleep sated with food, thus sustains me, beatific larvae, the earth yesterday ragged, weighed down with roses, the sun emerges from the germinating snow, vigor gains everywhere the benevolent calm of the azure. In the richness of the morning wind and silk weave silences of trees, from the high parapets of the forests of the mountains and the snow. In the rooms multiplied by flickerings and seclusions over the hallowed surfaces of the latticework amidst the hands glimmering with food far from you remain the incalculable hazards of the ants. Distanza Or che mi cinge tutta la tua distanza sto inerme dentro un'unica sera Odora il miele sulla mensa e il tuono è nella valle, molto aff anno tra l'uno e l'altro Io sono spazio frequentato dal tuo sole deserto, vieni a chiedermi dove gridami solitudine E questo azzurro guasto di sgomenti e di luci di monti per sempre m'ha appreso a memoria. Distance Now that all your distance surrounds me I stand defenseless inside a lone evening The honey is redolent on the table and thunder sounds in the valley, much unease between one and the other I am frequented space deserted by your sun, come, ask me where shout solitude at me And this azure sky marred with dismay and mountain lights forever knows me by heart. Adunata Indugia ancora la parvenza dei soldati selvaggi sulle porte, ed ostili insegne sui fortilizi alza la sera, chiama piazze a raccolta. Un arso astro distrusse questa terra profonda in pozzi e tane s'avventa l'ombra dell'estate da vicoli e da altane e dai rotti teatri. Nel disegno dei pavimenti nelle crepe delle caserme nelle clausure delle palestre un morbo splende, il vetro seme del gelo traligna, il vino e l'oro sui deschi appassisce. Ma, gloria avara del mondo, d'altre stagioni memoria deforme, resta la selva. Gathering The apparition of the wild soldiers still lingers on the doors, and evening hoists hostile banners over fortresses summoning piazzas to the assembly. A burnt star destroyed this earth deep in wells and lairs the shadow of summer hurls itself from alleyways and terraces and broken theaters. In the design of pavements in the cracks of barracks in the seclusion of gymnasiums a sickness shines, the glass seed of the frost degenerates, wine and gold decay on the tables. But, mean glory of the world, misshapen memory of other seasons, the forest remains. Nel mio paese Leggeri ormai sono i sogni, da tutti amato con essi io sto nel mio paese, mi sento goloso di zucchero; al di là della piazza della salvia rossa si ripara la pioggia si sciolgono i rumori ed il ridevole cordoglio per cui temesti con tanta fantasia questo errore del giorno e il suo nero d'innocuo serpente Del mio ritorno scintillano i vetri ed i pomi di casa mia, le colline sono per prime al traguardo madido dei cieli, tutta l'acqua d'oro è nel secchio tutta la sabbia nel cortile e fanno rime con le colline Di porta in porta si grida all'amore nella dolce devastazione e il sole limpido sta chino su un'altra pagina del vento. In My Land With dreams by now buoyant, loved by all I remain in my land, craving sugar; beyond the piazza of the red sage the rain steals off and noises melt away with the laughable sorrow for which you so fancifully feared this error of the day black as a harmless serpent The windows and apple trees of home gleam on my return, the hills are first over the sky-soaked finish line, the golden water is all in the pail the sand all in the courtyard together rhyming with the hills Shouts of love fly from door to door amid the sweet devastation lit by the limpid sun bent over another page of the wind.

L'acqua di Dolle Ora viene a consolarmi con una lunga visita l'acqua di Dolle che portò dieci colline al paese sfuggì tra le api e i lor castelli di acume toccò le forme sensitive di un'isola di pura sabbia, ora viene quest'acqua ch'io sospiro perché traspare dalle tue membra gemelle; perché a lungo indugiò nello scrigno d'ombra dove il fi co s'aff accia guardiano e il sole non fa più musco né felce, dove sono già aperte le scene da festa del cielo. Acqua ignara della creta che già fuoresce dai suoi viluppi, fi era del rosso momentaneo dei fi ori celebrati da quest'ora, tu vai dovunque lambendo e tentando le più ritrose solitudini: lasciatemela mia, per la mia lampadina di chiocciola per l'orto di che il nano è mezzadro, lei dal fi ttissimo alfabeto lei che ha i messaggi di nobili invasioni degli astri che ritornano dalle alpi ormai pingui d'argento, lei che va promettendo una notte fresca come un domani. The Water of Dolle Now to console me with a long visit comes the water of Dolle that carried ten hills to town escaped amidst the bees and their acute castles touched the sensitive shapes of an island of pure sand, now comes this water I yearn for because it glimmers up through your twin limbs; because for so long it lingered in the shadowy coffer where the fig tree stands sentinel and the sun no longer spawns moss or fern, where the festive scenes of the sky are already open. Water oblivious of the clay that already seeps from its snarls, proud of the ephemeral red of the flowers celebrated by this hour, you go everywhere lapping and touching the most reluctant solitudes: let it stay mine, for my snail's lamp for the dwarf sharecropper's garden, water from the densest alphabet water with messages of noble invasions of stars returning from the Alps by now laden with silver, water that promises a night cool as a tomorrow.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from The Selected Poetry and Prose of Andrea Zanzotto Copyright © 2007 by The University of Chicago. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Table of Contents

List of Illustrations 
Translator’s Note and Acknowledgments 
Introduction
 
Selected Poetry
 
da A che valse? Versi, 1938–1942 / from What was the point? Verse, 1938–1942 (1970)
“Nell’era della silenziosa pace” / “In the age of silent peace”
“Nei giorni delle insonni primavere” / “In the days of sleepless springs”
“A questo ponte”  / “At this bridge”  
 
da Dietro il paesaggio / Behind the Landscape (1951)
Indizi e Luna  / Indications and Moon  
Quanto a lungo  / How Long  
Ormai / By Now  
Là sovente nell’alba / There Often in the Dawn 
Serica / Silky
Distanza / Distance 
Adunata / Gathering 
Nel mio paese / In My Land 
L’acqua di Dolle / The Water of Dolle 
L’amore infermo del giorno / The Infirm Love of Day 
Là sul ponte / There on the Bridge 
Perché siamo  / Because We Are  
Dietro il paesaggio  / Behind the Landscape
Nella valle / In the Valley  

da Elegia e altri versi / from Elegy and Other Poems (1954)
Partenza per il Vaud / Departure for Vaud
Da Ore calanti / From Waning Hours
 
da Vocativo / from Vocative (1957)
Fiume all’alba / River at Dawn 
Caso vocativo / Vocative Case
Colloquio / Colloquy
I paesaggi primi / The First Landscapes
Da un’altezza nuova / From a New Height   
Esistere psichicamente / Existing Psychically
Impossibilità della parola / Impossibility of the Word
Prima del sole / Before the Sun
Dal cielo / From the Sky
 
da IX Ecloghe / from IX Eclogues (1962)
Un libro di Ecloghe / A Book of Eclogues
Ecloga I / Eclogue I
Ecloga II / Eclogue II
Ecloga III / Eclogue III
Per la finestra nuova / Through the New Window
Ecloga IV / Eclogue IV
La quercia sradicata dal vento / The Oak Uprooted by the Wind
Così siamo / That’s How We Are
Notificazione di presenza sui Colli Euganei / Notifying One’s Presence in the Euganean Hills
Epilogo: Appunti per un’Ecloga / Epilogue: Notes for an Eclogue
 
da La Beltà / from Beauty (1968)
La perfezione della neve / The Perfection of the Snow
Sì, ancora la neve / Yes, the Snow Again
Alla stagione / To the Season
Da Possibili prefazi o riprese o conclusioni / From Possible Prefaces or Resumptions or Conclusions
Al mondo / To the World
L’elegia in petèl / The Elegy in Petèl
Da Profezie o memorie o giornali murali / From Prophecies or Memories or Bulletin Boards
           
da Gli Squardi i Fatti e Senhal / from Glances, Facts and Senhals (1969)
From Glances, Facts and Senhals / Da Gli Squardi i Fatti e Senhal   
 
da Pasque / from Easters (1973)
Da Misteri della pedagogia / From Mysteries of Pedagogy
La Pace di Oliva / The Peace of Oliva
Subnarcosi / Subnarcosis
Per lumina, per limina / By Lights, by Limits
Lanternina cieca / Small Dark Lantern  
Codicillo / Codicil /  

( a ( e / ( a ( e
 
da Filò. Per il Casanova di Fellini / from Peasants Wake for Fellini’s Casanova (1976)
Da Peasants Wake / From Filò 
 
da Il Galateo in Bosco / from The Woodland Book of Manners (1978)
“Dolcezza. Carezza. Piccoli schiaffi in quiete.” / “Sweetness. Dearness. Little muffled slaps.”
Gnessulógo / Noplace
Diffrazioni, eritemi  / Diffractions, Erythemas
(Certe forre circolari colme di piante . . .) / (Certain circular ravines brimming with plants . . .)
“Rivolgersi agli ossari. Non occorre biglietto.” / “Apply to the ossuaries. No ticket is needed.”
Stati maggiori contrapposti, loro piani / Conflicting Dominant States, Their Designs “Tentando e poi tagliuzzando a fette” / “Touching and then chopping into slices”
(Indizi di guerre civili) / (Indications of Civil Wars)
(Sono gli stessi) / (They’re the same)
From Da Ipersonetto / Hypersonnet
            I – I – (Sonetto di grifi ife e fili) / (Sonnet of snouts hyphae and filaments)
            III – III – (Sonetto di stragi e di belle maniere) / (Sonnet of massacres and  good manners) /
            IV – IV – (Sonetto del decremento e dell’alimento) / (Sonnet of decrement and  nourishment)
(Che sotto l’alta guida) / (That under the noble guidance)
( )        ) (  / ( )        ) ( 
) (        ( ) / ) (        ( ) 
(Lattiginoso) / (Milky)
 
da Fosfeni / from Phospenes (1983)
Come ultime cene / Like Last Suppers   
“Amori impossibili come” / “Loves impossible as”
Da Silicio, carbonio, castellieri / From Silicon, Carbon, Fortified Villages 
Squadrare il foglio / Squaring the sheet
(Da Ghène) / (At Ghène’s)  
“Ben disposti silenzi” / “Well disposed silences”
Da Periscopi /  From Periscopes  
Soprammobili e gel / Trinkets and Gel
(Anticicloni, inverni) / (Anticyclones, Winters)  
Vocabilità, fotoni / Vocability, photons  
Da Tavoli, giornali, alba pratalia / From Tables, Newspapers, Snow-Covered Fields
Futuri semplici—o anteriori? / Futures—Simple or Anterior?
 
da Idioma / From Idiom (1986)
Genti / Peoples
Sfere / Spheres  
Orizzonti / Horizons
“Pericolose—un giorno—bellezze” / “Dangerous—once—splendors”
Nino negli anni Ottanta / Nino in the Eighties
Da Andar a cucire / From Going Out to Sew  
Par i otanta ani de Montale / Fio  Montale on His Eightieth Birthday
In ricordo de Pasolini / In Memory of Pasolini
Da Mistieròi / From Small and Humble Occupations
Alto, altro linguaggio, fuori idioma? / High, Other Language, Beyond Idiom?
“Il cielo è limpido sino ad” / “The sky is transparent until”
Docile, riluttante  / Docile, reluctant
 
da Meteo / From Meteo (1996)
Live / Live 
Morèr Sachèr / Morèr Sachèr  
Lanugini / Lanugos 
“Non si sa quanto verde” / “There is no telling how much green”
Leggende / Leggends  
Stagione delle piogge  / Season of the Rains
Tu sai che  / You know that
Altri papaveri  / Other Poppies
Currunt / Currunt 
Colle, ala  / Hill, wing
“E ti protendi come silenzio” / “And you lean out like silence”
Topinambùr / Topinambùr 
Altri topinambùr  / Other

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