Swans Commentary » swans.com July 3, 2006  



Three Thousand Worlds
in Just a Flash of Life


by Guido Monte and Vittorio Cozzo




Translated by Maria Patricia Mastruzzo



(Swans - July 3, 2006)  


To Mario Turrisi

For a long time I had collected
what Vittorio was telling me on the phone
about his dreams—
he dreamt
and I scratchily wrote,
through immediate inspiration,
according to my long-wrought way.
then I read Kirimura, Ikeda
T'ien T'ai's Ichinen Sanzen:
I found the title ready-made.
Here are eight microcosms.



In that world there existed
three prototypes of men and women,
then multiplying to infinite
in millions of copies.
Women were the hypocrite, the sensuous,
the apparent tame—men were the drunken,
the violent, the slave.



Anselmuccio had promised to be a good boy—
Try again and try, he succeeded one day.
Just then, his sister, smiling
murmured to his ear: the war!
Didn't want to believe it—went to the window
and saw a crowd of people running away.
His father, in front of the laid table
hopelessly cried: it's the end.
Anselmuccio again went to the window
and shouted to make his throat bleed.



In the end one found himself alone
under a bridge at night,
with the fear the river would overflow.
The day after he wandered again
the place where work in obsession,
went up the stairs of a building,
one of a thousand,
got to the top and jumped down.



A man hid in the carriage of a train
and listened from the radio
to an old rap of a few years before—
It was the story of a penniless terminal-operator
who never managed to get his old age pension.



He saw images clear and images more internal,
he was unable to recall—
then he woke up and went to work,
thoughtful. One morning he got up
and saw a kitten peeping at him
bewildered, from the kitchen calendar.



Two, friends since their childhood, aged together,
sitting on the steps near the town hall.
A child gets near, scorns them and runs away.
One of the two old men rages and runs after him,
gets him, gives him a kick:
the boy falls to pieces like a crystal bowl.
A mother, crying, picks up
The crystal bits, the pieces
of a son too soon grown up.
Among the losers in that town
faceless, someone had dialled 999
thinking of a riot in the neighbourhood.
Just arrived, their lights all glimmer
the bored policemen asked: who?



He was a middle-aged man, on a bus,
complaining of a theft he'd just witnessed.
While he was getting off, a young girl
pointed a gun at him
and shot him right into his face,
under his eye
shouting a non-existing word.



In the last world there's a kind of paradise,
the essence of pure bliss
in which you are oddly conscious you exist—
you can't see anything.
Not even there it's possible though
to speak to God, not even as dead men—
each manages his own light.


· · · · · ·


We have entered our second decade of uninterrupted ad-free publication.
But while our publication is free to you, it is not free to produce.
Please consider sending a donation to keep us flying.

· · · · · ·


Internal Resources


Arts & Culture


About the Author

Guido Monte teaches Italian and Latin literature in Palermo, Italy. He blends living and dead languages, and ancient and modern poets, in search of deeper relations between different people and cultures. He was born in 1962. You can find more creative writing of his own on happano.org, Words Without Borders, Segue, the multilingual magazine Litterae, and on BlazeVox (PDF file), an online journal of voice. Vittorio E. Cozzo was born in Palermo. He is a free-thinker who against all odds publishes experimental works with Guido Monte (e.g., "Nothing recalled and the mysterious life of God." He continues to live and operate in some remote part of Palermo. Maria P. Mastruzzo teaches English literature at the Liceo A. Einstein of Palermo. Mario Turrisi is a former student of Guido Monte who helped him prepare the original Italian version of this work.



Please, feel free to insert a link to this work on your Web site or to disseminate its URL on your favorite lists, quoting the first paragraph or providing a summary. However, please DO NOT steal, scavenge, or repost this work on the Web or any electronic media. Inlining, mirroring, and framing are expressly prohibited. Pulp re-publishing is welcome -- please contact the publisher. This material is copyrighted, © Guido Monte 2006. All rights reserved.


Have your say

Do you wish to share your opinion? We invite your comments. E-mail the Editor. Please include your full name, address and phone number (the city, state/country where you reside is paramount information). When/if we publish your opinion we will only include your name, city, state, and country.


· · · · · ·


This Edition's Internal Links

"Lemon Head" - Hank Bunker

Swift Boating The Media - Deck Deckert

Singing Off Key In The Choir - Philip Greenspan

A Day In The Life - Michael Doliner

The Insurgent Word: Apocalypse - Gerard Donnelly Smith

Endangered Species Fantasy - Martin Murie

My Buddha - Milo Clark

Demise Of The Bard - Charles Marowitz

Orhan Pamuk: A Novelist Where The Currents Cross - Peter Byrne

Letters to the Editor

· · · · · ·


[About]-[Past Issues]-[Archives]-[Resources]-[Copyright]



Swans -- ISSN: 1554-4915
URL for this work: http://www.swans.com/library/art12/gmonte03.html
Published July 3, 2006