the God of small things

un bagliore di automobili in fuga
i miei pensieri riordinava in bianco e nero.

io che attraverso la strada
solo nei punti consentiti dalla legge,
sono stato invitato all’improvviso
fra le rose.

e come si chiarisce un bruno ramo
nel punto in cui si spezza, così io
nel mio amore
sono chiaro.

y. a.

di tutto ciò far senza,
e del troppo sognare...
e sulla terra in levità passare.

p. v.

the art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

lose something every day. accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
the art of losing isn't hard to master.

then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. none  of these will bring disaster.

i lost my mother's watch. and look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
the art of losing isn't hard to master.

i lost two cities, lovely ones. and, vaster,
some realms i owned, two rivers, a continent.
i miss them, but it was'nt a disaster.

-- even losing you (a joking voice, a gesture
i love) i shan't have lied. it's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (write it!) like disaster.

e. bishop, "one art"