And suddenly it's evening
Each is alone on the heart of the earth
speared by a ray of sun:
and suddenly it's evening.
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From deformed nature
From deformed nature the symmetrical leaf
flees, the anchor holds it
no longer. Already winter, not winter,
a bonfire smokes near the Naviglio.
In that fire at night
someone can betray, can deny,
three times, the earth. How strong
the grip is, if here for years, what years, you watch
the filthy stars afloat in the canals
without disgust, if you love someone
of this earth, if the fresh wood
crackles, and the geometry of the wrinkled
leaf burns, warming you.
~Salvatore Quasimodo (1901-1968) |
