Translated by André Naffis-Sahely
Venice multiplies itself and refracts, like light bounces off the shards of a mirror that has broken into a thousand pieces.
Literary
Translated by Kara Billey Thordarson
Gray carpet and gray chairs and gray walls and gray table and gray cocktail glasses and gray fax machine and gray door frame and gray neighbors and gray staircase and gray street and the gray sky and our pale running feet
Translated by Susan Bernofsky
As soon as he entered the sleepers’ realm, the air around him grew sharply colder, with glittering silvery particles of light falling all around him. He watched the miniature flakes floating, they danced, liberated from gravity, yet still went on falling: falling ever farther until at last they alighted on the frozen earth and disappeared.
Translated by Martin Aitken
We come no closer, only the opposite—we are moving away. Moving backwards, losing the pores of the woman’s skin, we lose the pores, the fair down of her upper lip that you discovered, the lines of her skin reminding you of some other age—youth, funnily enough, that couldn’t quite be placed.
Translated by Derick Mattern
Once poetry was like a faithful hound
whenever I was sad he’d sense it
and come comfort me
Translated by Kelsi Vanada
love’s cry lingers incomplete like a half-articulated sneeze love is a half-sneeze cut off by another sneeze creaking a reflex scandalously i rest my skull on your sweet skull a phonograph before the sonata in C major accentuates and duplicates the cravings and increases wellbeing and exists
