Caterina Davinio. Poet, writer, new media artist. Graduated in Italian Literature in Roma, 1981. Pioneer of computer poetry in 1990. Initiator of Italian Net-poetry in 1998. Among her publications: Color color (novel, Campanotto, Pasian di Prato – UD 1998), Tecno-Poesia e realtà virtuali (essay, with English translation and preface by Eugenio Miccini, Sometti, Mantova 2002), both finalist at Feronia Prize; Serial Phenomenologies (poems collection, in “Tellus”, 24-25, SO 2003).
Her multimedia poetry work has been featured in more than 200 exhibitions in Europa, North and South America, Asia, Australia, six times in the Venice Biennale and collateral events (since 1997), where she collaborated also as curator. Other exhibitions: Athens Biennial (2007), Biennale of Sidney (Online Venue 2008), Biennales de Lion (1999 and 2007). Her poems have been included in international anthologies and reviews.
For extensive bibliography and exhibitions list see:
http://xoomer.virgilio.it/cprezi/caterinadav.html
Contact: davinio@tin.it
Studio : davinio.art.electronics@gmail.com
8.
The yellow greenish gold like
anguish
Cutting through my space – sky the liquid
sun my sky –
There was thunder up there, a little above the horizon
And green crying out in the grass
And the leaden clouds are closing the
lid
And the diamond water preserves all of the
world in the furrows of soil
and still a little world
and the light all to drink, cold
And blood of climbers clutched
to the pines
And the black green of the pines
And my steps of sun through the blades of grain
And your house, before the wood
And your house before
the things of yours your air
the world of yours and your thought
your beloved
And your time
Your everything
Your iron your stone.
© Translation by Caterina Davinio and David W. Seman
Da: Fenomenologie seriali
8.
Il giallo oro verdicante come
angoscia
Che fende il mio spazio – cielo il liquido
sole mio cielo –
Tuonava in alto, poco sopra l’orizzonte
E il verde grida nell’erba
E il piombo delle nubi chiude il
coperchio
E l’acqua diamantina conserva tutto del
mondo nei solchi di terra
e ancora un po’ di mondo
e la luce tutta da bere, fredda
E il sangue di rampicanti avviticchiato
ai pini
E il verde nero dei pini
E il mio passo di sole tra i fili di grano
E la tua casa, prima del bosco
E la tua casa prima
le cose tue l’aria tua
il mondo tuo e il pensiero tuo
gli amati tuoi
E il tuo tempo
Il tuo tutto
Il tuo ferro la tua pietra.
From: Highways
4.
And Heaven made me
azure-blue,
weighted me down
intolerably
with sunlight
through my eyelashes
and I prayed
in my bright
diamond-like
mind
sparkling blue
like the infinite hopes
distances
and,
my breath (shining), happy
as never before.
© Translation by Caterina Davinio and David W. Seman
Da: Autostrade
4.
E il cielo mi faceva
azzurra,
pesava su me
insostenibile
di sole
tra le ciglia,
e pregavo
con la mente
accesa,
diamantina,
scintillante di blu
come le infinite speranze
distanze
e,
mio respiro (splendente), felice
come mai.
Poetry in this post: © Caterina Davinio
Published with the permission of Caterina Davinio