“Still now in the nights when I lie in the open I feel the weight of the air in the breath and the acupuncture of the stars on the skin.”
This is, roughly translated by myself, from "The fishes don't close their eyes" the latest book by Erri De Luca, an Italian author from Naples. It's an absolutely powerful, vibrating memoir set in and near Naples and the sea. Words spark raw and profound in an astounding poetic prose. It's the second book I am reading in Italian in years, the first was always by the same author and it was a short story set on a scree in the Dolomiti mountains: "The weight of the butterfly".
I think that some work by Erri De Luca is translated in English.