La lacrima di Pierrot
Triste Pierrot, dolce Pierrot, mascherina dell’anima mia, triste Pierrot, dolce mio Pierrot, per te scrivo quest’ultima poesia.
Dolce Pierrot, mentre balli sui palchi, col tuo viso di bimbo mascherato, in te, leprotto insidiato dai falchi, il mio timore ho visto rispecchiato.
Mentre danzavi puro ed innocente con la lacrima fissa sotto gli occhi, malinconica univo la mia mente a te, bambino senza mai balocchi.
A te, sereno senza mai sorriso, che invano, come me, chiedi amicizia, piccolo santo senza paradiso,
del mio cuore annodavo la mestizia.
Se le mani poggiavi sopra il cuore e poi facevi il “salto della morte”, la tua testa, chinata in un dolore tutto interno, m’univa alla tua sorte.
E se baci mandavi con amore, con un saltino assai ben preparato, la tua boccuccia, stretta da un tremore bene nascosto, mi mozzava il fiato.
Dolce Pierrot, triste Pierrot, bimbo adulto dell’anima mia, dai tuoi occhi scuri dal bistrò con la lacrima piange la poesia.
|
Illustrazione di (Illustration by)
Mimmo
Emanuele |
Pierrot’s Tear
Sad Pierrot, sweet Pierrot, Little mask of my soul, Sad Pierrot, my sweet Pierrot, I am writing this last poem for you.
Sweet Pierrot, whilst you dance on the stage, With your child’s face masked, In you, little hare entrapped by the hawks, I have seen my fear mirrored.
Whilst you danced pure and innocent With your tear fixed beneath your eyes, Melancholy, I united my mind With you, child who never had any playthings.
To you, serene yet never smiling, Who in vain, like me, asks for friendship, Little Saint without a paradise, Of my heart I knotted the sadness.
Were you to place your hands above your heart And then take the “plunge of death”, Your head, bent in pain Totally internal, would unite me to your fate.
And were you to send kisses with love, With a well prepared little jump, Your little mouth, clenched by a well-hidden tremor, Would take my breath away.
Sweet Pierrot, sad Pierrot, Child adult of my soul, From your dark eyes from the bistro With the tear that cries poetry.
|