Stefano Guglielmin
Maybe It's Raining
Selected Poems 1985—2014

Translated by Gray Sutherland

 

Paperback, 227 pages
ISBN 978-0-9861061-0-1
$20

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STEFANO GUGLIELMIN (b. 1961) teaches Italian literature in his hometown of Schio, located in the province of Vicenza, Italy. He studied in Padua and graduated cum laude with a thesis on the deconstructionist philosopher Gianni Vattimo. Both poet and musician, he has played bass guitar in jazz, rock and big-band ensembles. He writes mainly poems, essays and articles, and contributes to numerous magazines, projects and events. He runs the website Blanc de ta nuque, a Look at Contemporary Italian Poetry. He is married and has a son.

Guglielmin's chief collections of poetry are Fascinose extroversioni / Fascinating Extroversions (1985), Logoshima (1988), Come a beato confine / As At a Blissful Frontier (2003), La distanza immedicata / The Immedicate Rift (2006), C'è buffera dentro la madre / Mother Has a Storm in Her (2010) and Le volpi gridano in giardino / Foxes Howling in the Yard (2013). Selections from all these collections are published in Maybe It's Raining, plus a collection of previously unpublished farewell poems, Ciao, Cari / Bye, Dear.

Interview in Italian (sound recording):

Premio letterario "Anna Osti" 2013 intervista a Stefano Guglielmin (sound recording):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zOm3xPXwLE

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Selections
from Maybe It's Raining

 

Poet Stephano Guglielmin

 

From Come a beato confine / As At a Blissful Frontier (2003)

io terza persona / this me

1

io dovrebbe
dal suo esilio
piegare verso l'orizzonte
farsi cosa dai quattro cantoni
e
alla prima persona singolare
oscurare io specchio

this me should
from its exile
bow toward the horizon
out of the four corners make itself something
and
at the first person singular
darken the mirror

2

io dovrebbe
con la lingua mettere a fuoco
l'essata dimensione del vuoto
e stare in bilico sul bordo
capro del suo piede

this me should
set fire with its tongue
to the exact scale of the void
and stand poised on the goat
edge of its foot

3

io dovrebbe
vagare al laccio d'un cavallo
a dondolo percroste e nervi e
carse d'altra natura
scrivere di quella cosa che la luce tarla

this me should
roam in the lasso of a
rocking horse around crusts and nerves and
races of another nature
write about what light leaves worm-eaten

From La distanza immedicata / The Immedicate Rift (2006)

La riva / I nomi

a capo dei nomi scavi
ancora nei polmoni di dio
cieca per troppa luce
e aperta ad una lingua mortale
slabbrata ai margini dei suoni
come debussy o la voce
che resta abbandonata all'aria
nascendo

The Bank / The Names

where the names start you dig
still in the lungs of god
blind from too much light
open to a mortal tongue
gaping at the margins of sound
like Debussy or the voice
that hangs abandoned in the air
as it is being born

From Ciao, Cari / Bye, Dear

Flavia (1945-2009)

Chiedo scusa se non c'ero al tuo
funerale: due ore di aereo non dicono

il vero o solo in parte, ma con tanta morte
uno s'impasta e perde quota.

Qui comunque in terra piove
e ogne tanto sterzo a caso, guardo
altrove:

Flavia (1945-2009)

I'm sorry I wasn't at your
funeral: two hours in a plane don't tell

the truth or only part of it, but with so much death you get blurred
and lose height.

Here on the ground however it's running
and now and then I turn at random and look
someplace else:

 

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