1/8/2024 0 Comments Poemes a 4 strophes![]() Mathew” (1964) and appeared in many others films culminating with “The Arabian Nights” in 1974. He was first cast in “The Gospel According to St. Pasolini wrote, “Everything about him has a magical air…an endless reserve of happiness.” Soon Ninetto became part of Pasolini’s entourage and began appearing in his films. During the shooting of “La Ricotta” (1963), he was introduced to Pasolini. Giovanni (“Ninetto”) Davoli was born on Octoin San Pietro a Maida, Calabria. You speak words of admiration for my dejected brothers of the Left.īut in your laughter there is the absolute rejection of all that I am. You laugh at my Bach and you say you are compassionate. Where the sun has made glorious their heads,Ĭrowned with those absurd modern-style haircutsĪnd those ugly American jeans that crush the genitals. Has passed and, like me, they remain far from the summit Of poems and novels to be written and I returnĪround me are the ghosts of the first boys, The fragrant earth in the garden, I think again Guided by a Genie that gives you certaintyĪt the thought of our unforgettable happy hours.Īfter a long absence, I put on a record of Bach, inhale You’re too skilled in the art of breaking them, These pacts between men are not for you or perhaps In this way, I preserve intact my critique It is better that we are kept at a far distance. I, like the entire world, agree with you. I am like someone who is nauseousĪnd does not vomit, who does not surrenderĭespite the pressure of Authority. It is a reality that wants only to see me dead.Īnd yet I do not die. He is your double.Ĭheap stolen trinkets hang from his car window.īut where can you go? He is always there.Īnd for so many months it has been the same, you resist it,īut it remains a reality in which you are caught. The degenerate individual was here next to you. You have come with your car and had your fun, Paolo. ![]() He was a fascist, down on his luck, and I struggledīut in the dark I could see himwatching me. I stopped the car and called out to one of them. Neither Roman nor of the peasantry, cruising forġ000 lire. ![]() In the small garden I see the last two or three boys, I was driving alone on the deserted streets. The wind screamed through the Piazza dei CinquecentoĪs in a Church –there was no sign of filth. You were not devoted and yet I cannot understand Slowly, slowly, with your delicate hands. You wanted to destroy any good that came from it, With no guide to lead me through this hell. There existed in this world a thing without price. And still you are anxious.īut I know afterwards regret will shatter our fragile peace. You came to teach me things I had not known beforeīut the angel appears and you are silent again. His mother’s nest for comfort, will lead a false life. The man who prays and does not feel shame, who desires That Freud that you enjoy reading doesn’t He knows that when he does I will be dead. He says that if I am lost he will find me. Knowledge of him has changed everything in my life. He who always loses without really dying? Who does not understand what concerns him most? Are you Then again I consider you, lost and alone. I cannot bear the pain and wish I were dead. I think of you and I say to myself: “ I have lost him.” ![]() Yet you are humble and proud, obeying a destiny The years that comprise a life vanish in an instant. If you remain in this provincial village you’ll fall into a trap. Translation from Italian & Commentary by Peter Valenteīut, sitting with your arm on the steering wheel
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