Happy Valentine's Day with a famous, wonderful poem by Wisława Szymborska
Amore a prima vista
Sono entrambi convinti
che un sentimento improvviso li unì.
È bella una tale certezza
ma l’incertezza è più bella.
Non conoscendosi, credono
che non sia mai successo nulla tra loro.
Ma che ne pensano le strade, le scale, i corridoi
dove da tempo potevano incrociarsi?
Vorrei chiedere loro
se non ricordano -
una volta un faccia a faccia
in qualche porta girevole?
uno “scusi” nella ressa?
un “ha sbagliato numero” nella cornetta?
- ma conosco la risposta.
No, non ricordano.
Li stupirebbe molto sapere
che già da parecchio tempo
il caso stava giocando con loro.
Non ancora del tutto pronto
a mutarsi per loro in destino,
li avvicinava, li allontanava,
gli tagliava la strada
e soffocando una risata
si scansava con un salto.
Vi furono segni, segnali,
che importa se indecifrabili.
Forse tre anni fa
o lo scorso martedì
una fogliolina volò via
da una spalla a un’altra?
Qualcosa fu perduto e qualcosa raccolto.
Chissà, era forse la palla
tra i cespugli dell’infanzia?
Vi furono maniglie e campanelli
su cui anzitempo
un tocco si posava sopra un tocco.
Valigie accostate nel deposito bagagli.
Una notte, forse, lo stesso sogno,
subito confuso al risveglio.
Ogni inizio infatti
è solo un seguito,
e il libro degli eventi
è sempre aperto a metà.
–---------------
Love at First Sight
They’re both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
Since they’d never met before, they’re sure
that there’d been nothing between them.
But what’s the word from the streets, staircases, hallways—
perhaps they’ve passed by each other a million times?
I want to ask them
if they don’t remember—
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a “sorry” muttered in a crowd?
a curt “wrong number” caught in the receiver?—
but I know the answer.
No, they don’t remember.
They’d be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.
Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.
There were signs and signals,
even if they couldn’t read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood’s thicket?
There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
beforehand.
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.
Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.
–---------------
Miłość od pierwszego wejrzenia
Obo-je są prze-ko-na-ni,
że po-łą-czy-ło ich uczu-cie na-głe.
Pięk-na jest taka pew-ność,
ale nie-pew-ność jest pięk-niej-sza.
Są-dzą, że sko-ro nie
zna-li się wcze-śniej,
nic mię-dzy nimi ni-g-dy się nie dzia-ło.
A co na to uli-ce, scho-dy, ko-ry-ta-rze,
na któ-rych mo-gli się od daw-na mi-jać?
Chcia-ła-bym ich za-py-tać,
czy nie pa-mię-ta-ją -
może w drzwiach ob-ro-to-wych
kie-dyś twa-rzą w twarz?
ja-kieś ,,prze-pra-sza-m'' w ści-sku?
głos ,,po-mył-ka-'' w słu-chaw-ce?
- ale znam ich od-po-wiedź.
Nie, nie pa-mię-ta-ją.
Bar-dzo by ich zdzi-wi-ło,
że od dłuż-sze-go już cza-su
ba-wił się nimi przy-pa-dek.
Jesz-cze nie cał-kiem go-tów
za-mie-nić się dla nich w los,
zbli-żał ich i od-da-lał,
za-bie-gał im dro-gę
i tłu-miąc chi-chot
od-ska-ki-wał w bok.
Były zna-ki, sy-gna-ły,
cóż z tego, że nie-czy-tel-ne.
Może trzy lata temu
albo w ze-szły wto-rek
pe-wien li-stek prze-fru-nął
z ra-mie-nia na ra-mię?
Było coś zgu-bio-ne-go i pod-nie-sio-ne-go.
Kto wie, czy już nie pił-ka
w za-ro-ślach dzie-ciń-stwa?
Były klam-ki i dzwon-ki,
na któ-rych za-wcza-su
do-tyk kładł się na do-tyk.
Wa-liz-ki obok sie-bie w prze-cho-wal-ni.
Był może pew-nej nocy jed-na-ko-wy sen,
na-tych-miast po zbu-dze-niu za-ma-za-ny.
Każ-dy prze-cież po-czą-tek
to tyl-ko ciąg dal-szy,
a księ-ga zda-rzeń
za-wsze otwar-ta w po-ło-wie.
