Dialect Poetry of Southern Italy (Italian Poetry in Translation Book 2)

Even Old Shakespeare

How can I go back, pretend
that nothing happened, that everything
is in place? Even old
Shakespeare wondered
and he blamed day and night
to make them blind and watch them brawl.
Truth lives entirely in your breath
that now protects the dark realm of death
and yearns to be exiled
from its own days, the dark.
But you know it’s better to become
darkness in your arms
than light spilling in the streets.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)