VLADIMIR NABOKOV
It was Juliette who brought him to the house.
We gave the old man food, we gave him drink;
he cooed with pleasure , licked his chops , eyes narrowed,
squeezed at my hand, with an enraptured smile,
but made no sense at all; must be his mind
was growing bald.. . . We kept him here with us–
it was Juliette who talked us into it....
He must be coddled, though ... his tooth is sweet,
and he's been costing us a pretty penny.
Wife
Oh, stop it, dear .. . the sweet old man .
Husband
I meant
no harm.. .. It was just idle chatter. . . . Drink, sir!
Passerby
I'm drinking, thanks .... Although it's almost time
for me to go.... What rain! It will breathe life
into your land.
Husband
Thank heavens . Only this
is just a joke, not rain. There , look- the sun's
beginning to peek through already.... No .. .
Passerby
Look at that lovely golden smoke!
Husband
See-you, sir,
can marvel at it, but what about us?
We
are
the land.... And our thoughts are the land's
own thoughts . . .. We do not need to look, but sense
the swelling of the seed within the furrow,
the fruit becoming plump .. .. When, from the heat,
the earth begins to parch and crack, so, too,
the skin upon our palms starts cracking, sir.
And, if it rains, we listen with alarm,
and inwardly we pray : "Noise, blessed noise,
be not transformed to hammering of hail!" .
And if that ricocheting clatter should
begin resounding on our windowsills,
555
