Two Poems for T.

The plants of the lake
saw you one morning.
The stones the goats the sweat
exist outside of days
like the water of the lake.
The lake remains unmarked
by the days' pain and clamor.
The mornings will pass,
the anguish will pass,
other stones and sweat
will bite into your blood—
it won't always be like this.
You'll rediscover something.
Another morning will come
when, beyond the clamor,
you'll be alone on the lake.

You also are love.
Made of blood and earth
like the others. You walk
like one who won't stray far
from your own front door.
You watch like one who waits
and doesn't see. You are earth
that aches and keeps silent.
You have bursts and lapses,
you have words — you walk
and wait. Your blood
is love — that's all.

Copyright © 2002 Giulio Einaudi/Cesare Pavese/Geoffrey Brock All rights reserved
from Disaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950
Copper Canyon Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission