La tierra santa

by Alda Merini, Maria Corti (Editor), Jeannette L. Clariond (Translator)

Following the same tradition as Dante, the 40 poems of this work represent the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. Concentrating on the struggle to reach the “promised land,“ author Alda Merini recalls the tales of Moses at Mount Sinai, the Israelites' 40 years in the desert, and Jesus' fast in the wilderness. This narrative uniquely intertwines religious histories with clues to the author's own search for the laws or powers that rule her movements and vision.

Genres: Poetry

119 pages, Paperback

Published February 28, 2002

About the author

Alda Merini was a renowned Italian writer and poetess. The President of the Italian Republic, Giorgio Napolitano, called her an "inspired and limpid poetic voice".

Reviews

[Steven Godin · Rating 3 out of 5]

You made me into something dull,
a petrified forest,
one who cannot cry
for her undone motherhood.
You made me into a forest
where poisonous snakes slither
and the hyena lies in wait,
because I was a nymph
graceful and in love,
and I had soft puppies.
But my thirsty nails
dig up the earth, determined,
so I stare at your eyes, Medusa.
I, an expert dreamer,
who even now takes refuge in a bed
covered with grief
to feel my flesh no longer.

[EIJANDOLUM]

“Thought, where are your roots?
In my crazy soul
or in my ruined womb?
You are so bold, voracious,
you consume every distance;
tell me to turn
as Orpheus did
glacing back at his Eurydice,
and so that I can lost you
in the cave of madness.”

“And you sing to yourself
melodies of torment.”

“I am certain that nothing more will suffocate my verse
I have kept silence in my throat for years
as in a sacrificial trap,
but the moment has come to sing
a dirge to the past.”

“But my thirsty nails
dig up the earth, determined,
so I stare at your eyes, Medusa.
I, an expert dreamer,
who even now takes refuge in a bed
covered with grief
to feel my flesh no longer.”

Alda's poetry twists. It stirs. It stuns.

[Anna Quilici · Rating 3 out of 5]

Io ero un uccello
dal bianco ventre gentile
qualcuno mi ha tagliato la gola
per riderci sopra
non so.
Io ero un albatro grande
e volteggiavo sui mari.
Qualcuno ha fermato il mio viaggio
senza nessuna carità di suono.
Ma anche distesa per terra
io canto ora per te
le mie canzoni d'amore.

[Renato Zajc Švara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cenim, da so vključili tako slovenske prevode kot originalne pesmi v italijanščini! Želim si, da bi znal italijanščino tudi razumeti, ne samo brati, ker sem prepričan, da so nekatere stvari izgubljene v prevodu. Vseeno - zelo kjut izdaja in zelo lepe pesmi.

[irene siempreviva · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fue un regalo de una amiga y un gran descubrimiento. Merini compara el manicomio en el que está interna con la Tierra Santa, con todas las metáforas mitológicas que implica

[natt · Rating 4 out of 5]

poesia i paranoia.. deliri dels homes

perché il mio cuore è triste
non può dare harmonia

[Eva Gruss · Rating 4 out of 5]

Los versos son polvo sellado, dice Alda. Supongo que así es: hacer de la acumulación del tiempo, de la suciedad y del olvido fragmentos de un poema para siempre escrito. Ella sellaba sus vivencias en el manicomio, en su tierra santa, con este libro. Una tierra santa donde la aurora es el detonante de la locura, el azul (azzurro) el mundo real y los locos cantan una canción por los cuerdos ignorada.

“permanecimos
como aquellos ángeles
que en un día de aurora
se precipitaron”

[Mariana Orantes · Rating 5 out of 5]

No pude evitarlo; hoy volví a leer este libro. Me encanta Alda Merini.

[Maria Saunders · Rating 5 out of 5]

Que descoberta incrível.