back to the scenes and times
of its wars and losses
how would I ever lure it
back
?
It would
be looking for something, it would be
too concentrated to hear me.
o
moon, watching everything,
delay it in the garden among the white flowers
until the cold air before sunrise
makes it glad to come back to me through the screens.
MOTET
At crack of dawn, at the time
When abruptly with rumbling voice
The railway recalls to me here
The men shut in its trains
In hard tunnelled ground
With the light sliced and flashed
From the waters and the skies;
At crack of dark, at the time
When the graver that scrawls deep
In the desk bites and strains
With a new fury, and the sound
Of the watchman's step draws near:
Denise Levertov
At dawn and dark, pauses that are human still!
-Patiently thread them together with your eyes.
from
Le Occasioni
Eugenio Montale
(Translated from the I talian by Edwin Morgan)
