The Shiver of the Inverse Pole

There is an energy that does not pull,
A cold echo that pushes away
Every step of mine, every aim I instill,
And the soul at its edge holds sway.
It is not metal nor electric stream,
But an insistent, ethereal shade,
A nearly silent opposition scheme,
That acutely defines the woven braid.

Non solo nell’ago della bussola smarrita,
o nel richiamo opposto tra le stelle,
ma nella quieta ostinazione, non mai vinta,
di foglie che danzano in raffiche ribelli.
È nel no detto prima del pensiero,
nella risposta che non ha un vero
sì, ma un lieve scarto, un’altra via,
una segreta, tenace anarchia.

And in that silence, in that gentle refusal,
A code resides, another law takes hold.
A subtle shiver moving with accrual,
The inverse pole where expectation’s told.
It is no barrier, it is no dread,
But the poetics, essential and deep,
That shapes the void, refining what was spread,
And in every limit, a new world will bloom.