
THE POEM
We have stored our old dreams
in the basement, snuggled close,
they will keep each other company
they will tell each other tales
of our ancient splendors and sorrows
and of all the pearls we gave
to those we loved perhaps in vain.
Pictures trinkets papers and phrases:
how pathetic and odious they seem now
all jumbled together
with the scent of death in this
repetition. Gone is their fullness and nothingness
and perhaps repeating ourselves is all we know
living better
while living less.
Because everything, Rosanna, adds up
and nothing is erased. Just as the poet told
in the beautiful fable that seduced us yesterday
and clutches us tenderly today.
Monte Porzio, May 1987
(Translation by Carol Lettieri and Irene Marchegiani Jones)
From Angels of Youth (2000)
Xenos Books, Riverside CA – USA
Original title Ceres
First published in 1996 by Caramanica Editore, Formia, Italy
Ruvo di Puglia (Bari). Jatta Museum. A young man's face, detail on a Kantharos vase. Photo Archivio Fotogramma

