from The Night Fountain (Selected uncollected poems)
The Night Fountain
The scent of an orange blossom, an enchanted night fountain,
when sleep escapes me
I call you with the names of most delicate flowers
– my bread with the white cross
all stars and snow – .
When the violet jumps
on the walls of greenhouses
I look in the crimson
for your eyes so calm
like the eyes of a lamb,
and yet they hurt me so much
like words of farewell,
like words that remain
unspoken in the heart
for fear of finding them no good.
I left two kisses on your orchid body,
they looked like two little flowers
like those which grow at the roadside,
so small, suffering the cold,
and outside the dappled sky bore my fever
and I thought I was happy.
Translated by Marco Sonzogni, Gerald Dawe
Page(s) 150
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