How many homes have already touched on shady,
my soul, finding no asylum
flowed from dream to memory,
from memory goes back to being a dream,
you surprised by the storm.
without happiness, without hope
quiet - but it looks like the face
only contains your destiny-
sometimes you Levavi
illuminated by reason, you sometimes eclipsed.
Loud and Incredibly I was given;
exist, as is the still wonder
the past, at this time when milder
the mountain of the sun itself carves
and in the evening that the sea receding and begs.
Mario Luzi
(from Scattered Poems 1945-48)
0 comments:
Post a Comment