Sunday, August 17, 2008
In the Greenhouse by Eugenio Montale
translated by Charles Wright
The lemon bushes overflowed
with the patter of mole paws,
the scythe shined
in its rosary of cautious water drops.
A dot, a ladybug,
ignited above the quince berries
as the snort of a rearing pony broke through,
bored with his rub-down—then the dream took over.
Kidnapped, and weightless, I was drenched
with you, your outline
was my hidden breath, your face
merged with my face, and the dark
idea of God descended
upon the living few, amid heavenly
sounds, amid childish drums,
amid suspended globes of lightning
upon me, upon you, and over the lemons...
I was introduced to this poet, Eugenio Montale, last week
by Merisi, who posted a piece of his work on her blog.
Unfortunately, I don't speak Italian, the original language in
which he composed, so I lose some of the magic. But even
translated into English, his poetry is marvelous. I ordered a
book of his poetry last week and am looking forward to
Photo borrowed from Flicker