Hospital Series

Poetry. Italian Studies. Women Studies. Translated from the Italian by Diana Thow.

Tender surges as the dawn draws near tender surges
of this angst or agony that cannot love, not itself nor
those who destroy me by making me exist. So tender
the castrated night when from the sobs of crossing
the piazza and street I hear exemplary screeching,
the arrogant laugh of the young men who still live
they know whether to fear is to die. Nothing can distract the young
eye from such disturbance, so many empty streets, the
houses are undertows of laughter. They laugh at me now that the
shutters with a solemn gesture recaulk other agonies
of even smaller men and if I console myself by being
a thought still among the living, I see your yellow taut face
again, that of a near-genius — it's so I can fully feel
the weight of boredom the bother for so little.