Peter Riley, extract from one autobiography, adattamento A .Panciroli

..Then there was poetry

there were no instructions to follow, no propaganda. There were no big poetry prizes or National Poetry Days or any other marketing campaigns to tell you who you’ve got to buy, and no poetry festivals to back up the publicity, and no poets going around doing performances. And we didn’t have careerist poets, prophets of doom, standing up all over the place screaming at us about what we must under no account buy or read or have anything to do with, at our peril.

... Poi c'era la Poesia.

nessuna istruzione da seguire, nessuna propaganda. Non c'erano grandi
concorsi di poesia o
i Giorni Nazionali della Poesia,
neppure altre campagne pubblicitarie per dirci
cosa dovevamo
comprare, neanche Festival di poesia per aiutare
il marketing né esibizioni di poeti. E non
avevamo poeti carrieristi, profeti di
sventura, a urlarci da ogni dove 
cosa per nessun motivo
dovevamo
comprare o leggere o averci a che fare, se non a

                                 A nostro rischio  e pericolo...


Un interessante articolo di Peter Riley sulla moda dei Premi Letterari
http://fortnightlyreview.co.uk/2012/04/poetry-angus/

dove, con tipico humour britannico, paragona i Premi letterari ai Premi  per il  Miglior Toro...

 If at a county show you are one of the judges in the section for Aberdeen Angus cattle, you will have a comprehensive list of points which must be fulfilled. There is the carriage of the creature’s head, with even teeth and broad muzzle. It should have a long body and strong legs with the joints well set. The back should be straight with a slight dip at one end. It should be well and evenly muscled with not too much fat. Viewed from behind the rump should be rounded, the legs straight and the hooves correctly positioned. When it walks its hind hoofs should enter the marks of its front hoofs without overstepping or understepping. If it is a cow its udder should not be pendulous and the teats should be of the right size and placement. If it is a bull the testicles should be large and the sheaf firmly attached and not pendulous. But all these distinctions should be weighed against the proportions of the whole animal and the aim is to assure that both it and its progeny should fulfil their commercial function. If all these boxes are ticked, you have your winner...

       

DIETAAAAAAAAA!

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ho mangiato la cioccolataaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Non devoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Questo che ho appena scritto è futurismo????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

È trans mentalismo????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

È un qualche ismo??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Non è proprio nullaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Non significa nullaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Significa solo che sono ingrassataaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Mangiando la cioccolataaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa


Passate il mouse sulle foto x vedere i commenti............

Peter Riley, da Greek Passages

Elleniko, the watch tower, watching the sea / A fleet of wooden ships approaches up the bay on the wind, bringing / trouble ,fifty maidens breathing abhorrence, hotly pursued by fifty princes breathing possession / an enormous administrative problem // Floating towns / as tall as the lower mountains, anchored against St Mark’s and dwarfing it / An exalted position, and where to go next / monetarist evangelism, consumes its own path. Where are the / binoculars there was a silent bird.

Ellinikò, la torre di guardia rivolta verso il mare / Una flotta di navi di legno portata dal vento s'accosta alla baia / portando  sofferenza, cinquanta vergini che esalano  orrore, violentemente  desiderate da cinquanta principi che esalano potere / un enorme problema amministrativo // Città galleggianti / alte come le montagne più basse, ancorate a San Marco lo fanno sembrare piccolissimo  / Una posizione elevata,  dove potersi rifugiare ,vicina /  all'evangelismo monetario, consuma il proprio sentiero. Dove è ora / il   binocolo, c'era un uccello silenzioso.

Silent that looks at us and shifts / away behind the leaves / No reason to be scared, little / beauty, ring/ dove deeper into the leaves, another / wave hits the stones, grey pitching into rose // O don’t you see yon lonesome dove / sittin on yon ivy tree / he’s / for his true love, and so are we.

Un silenzio che ci guarda e si sposta / nascosto tra le foglie. Non c'è motivo di aver paura, una, piccola / deliziosa colomba  nascosta tra le foglie, un altra / onda cozza contro gli scogli, grigio su rosa //  Oh! non vedete laggiù la solitaria colomba / laggiù tra l' edera/ lui  è / qui per il suo vero amore, ed anche noi.

Old steam locomotives rusting in the sidings at Mili / among eucalpytus trees, close to the sea / their couplings fall off, their doors are open / A small village with three bars, where youth pauses // An overwhelming / frustration and anger / a world emotion / lives in the cracks in the floor.

A  Mili  vecchie locomotive arrugginiscono sul binario morto / tra gli alberi di eucalipto, vicino al mare /   gli agganci crollati a terra, le porte  sono aperte / Un piccolo villaggio con tre bar, dove si riuniscono i giovani // Una frustrazione ed una rabbia irrefrenabili / un sentimento del mondo /  vive nelle fessure del pavimento.

Peter Riley was born 1940 near Manchester and now lives in Cambridge where he sells books. As well as poetry he writes prose about music, travel in Eastern Europe, and things in general...!