In the desert red, I’m a single dot:
my size today, a dot
without length, width, depth,
fallen from the sky’s highest point on an earth
filled with silence and suddenly pure.

I write to you from the red zone, and here’s the truth:
if a dot has no dimension,
is it because all are contained within it?
To think is to unite—meanwhile day and night

are the same color, we learn to think of one another,
of, somehow, a new good.
Join the same border
we learn to feel for one another
and somehow a real good

The borders are drawn, the red has filled the space
without entry or exit, and all are like me,
single dots, with no illusion, in the first spring
of a millennium now changing the face of time.

From this room I write to you and whisper:
if a dot has no dimension,
is it because all are contained within it?
To think is to unite—meanwhile day and night

are the same color, we learn to think of one another,
of, somehow, a new good.
Join the same border
we learn to feel for one another
and somehow a real good

Versione originale della poesia:
Dal deserto rosso – da Maria Borio, Dal deserto rosso, collana ‘I quaderni’, Stampa2009, 2020 tradotta in inglese da Danielle Pieratti

Copertina a cura di Mirko Della Monica

Musicisti:
violoncello: Yoed Nir
chitarra elettrica, batteria, mix e mastering: Stefano Bechini
chitarra acustica, basso e voce: Elio Cagnizi