Antonia Pozzi
trans. by Amy Newman
THREE POEMS
Enchantments
High icy edges
fell apart in the world.
Slowly, lightly
the boat plied the lakes of gold,
moving this way
we embraced in the sun.
Graceful blonde nets
imprisoned the hour.
And shivers were born;
they grew sad voices;
whistled
on shore the tearing of reeds.
Bright beasts
gazed from the thicket
for a long time
at the sunset on the water,
going this way toward the shadow
myself free
and forever alone.
December 22, 1935
The Closing Door
You see it, sister: I’m tired,
tired, worn out, rattled,
like the post of a narrow gate
on the edge of an immense courtyard;
like an old post
that all its life
has been a barrier to the impulsive escape
of a caged mob. Oh, the captive words
that batter, batter
furiously
at the door of the soul
and the door of the soul
that inch by inch
ruthlessly
shuts!
And every day the opening narrows
and every day the assault is harder.
And the last day
—I know it—
the last day
when a single blade of light
will pour down from the deepest cleft
into the darkness,
then there’ll be the monstrous wave,
the tremendous shock,
the mortal howl
of unborn words
towards the last dream of the sun.
And later,
behind the door that is forever closed,
will be all of the night:
coolness,
silence.
And then,
with my lips sealed,
my eyes wide
on the obscure shadowy sky,
it’ll be
—you know—
peace.
Milano, February 10, 1931
Message
And you, sharp nocturnal star,
still shine
when the dogs' mournful soul wails
through the furrows of the streets.
Rolling hills of thin grass will rise
to hide you from my eyes:
but in my hard-won darkness
you’ll shine, white fire
blazing my death to the living.
June 21-22, 1937
Born in Milan in 1912, Antonia Pozzi took her life in 1938, leaving behind notebooks containing over 300 poems; none of her poetry was published during her lifetime. After her death, Pozzi’s poetry was severely altered by her father, who scrubbed evidence of his daughter’s passion and her doubts about religion. In 1989, editors Alessandra Cenni and Onorina Dino restored the poems to their original form in Parole (Garzanti).
Amy Newman’s sixth book of poetry is An Incomplete Encyclopedia of Happiness and Unhappiness (Persea Books, 2023). Her translations of the poems and letters of Antonia Pozzi appear in Poetry, Harvard Review, Blackbird, and elsewhere. Her awards include a MacDowell Fellowship, numerous state art grants, and The John Frederick Nims Memorial Prize for Translation from Poetry.