1992.
Toruń, Polonia.
Scrivevo un foglio, a mezza via fra newsletter e diario, che
poi stampavo e spedivo ad amici e conoscenti in giro per il mondo.
Cartaceo. In una busta. Giocavo con font, riquadri, foto e
parole, nere su bianco.
Si intitolava If china, virgola compresa. Una
poesia di Stanisław Baranczak.
 |
| Szczytna Street in Torun, Poland - Peter Pesta |
2012.
Altrove. Venti anni dopo.
If
china, then
only the kind
you wouldn't miss under the movers' shoes or the treads of a tank;
if a chair, then one that's not too comfortable, or
you'll regret getting up and leaving;
if clothes, then only what will fit in one suitcase;
if books, then those you know by heart;
if plans, then the ones you can give up
when it comes time for the next move,
to another street, another continent or epoch
or world:
who told you you could settle in?
who told you this or that would last forever?
didn't anyone tell you you'll never
in the world
feel at home here?
Stanisław Baranczak
you wouldn't miss under the movers' shoes or the treads of a tank;
if a chair, then one that's not too comfortable, or
you'll regret getting up and leaving;
if clothes, then only what will fit in one suitcase;
if books, then those you know by heart;
if plans, then the ones you can give up
when it comes time for the next move,
to another street, another continent or epoch
or world:
who told you you could settle in?
who told you this or that would last forever?
didn't anyone tell you you'll never
in the world
feel at home here?
Stanisław Baranczak
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