Following Iuri Tinianov and Walter Benjamin works as a theoretical constellation, we can say that in translating a poem we seek a phantasm: the “echo” of a breathing, the composition of a rhythmical tissue, that we called rhythmical map or floating score, connected to a plan of immanence or floating score, and that is the specific feature of the poem. We conceive the poem as a rhythmical machine that holds in its repetition motor an atypical condition which leads us to another dimension, detached from daily time, from temporal-spatial axes used in prose. In Sylvia Plath works, the connection with a plan of immanence is drawn by the position of a horizontal body, suspended and lying down, ready to write; while the opposite position, the vertical body, refers to a body trapped into the civil identity and collective imaginary. Plath, like Pasolini and Deleuze, thinks about the poem writing as a tension to give form to the chaos. This is a form detached from the law of meaning that technically relies on the materiality of sounds and colors in words, launched from the immanence plan to return in the composition of the score-poem that brings us the infinite inside the detail. Plath takes the rhythmical map of the poem again into her letters and diary, with inversions and oppositions that enrich the symphonic volume of her work.