Umberto Saba

 

Ulysses

Once in my younger days I sailed the length
of the Dalmation coast. Islets of rock
lilied the surface of the water, perches
for the occasional bird intent on food.
The rocks were slick and algae-draped and bright
as emeralds in the sun, but when high tide
or night concealed them, any sail with wind
would veer toward deeper water to avert
their treachery. And now I am the king
of no man’s land. The harbor-lights are lit
for others; I again turn to the sea,
still driven by an unextinguished spirit,
by this excruciating love for life.

Love

I say goodbye when I approach you, Love,
as this age and this gray would have me do.
There was the shadow of the earth and sun
and, oh, the heart of a heartless boy in you.

The broken pane

It all conspires against you. Nasty weather,
lights that keep going out, and the old house
jolted by every gust. It’s dear to you
for what you suffered in it, for the hopes
dashed there, and for a few good times as well.
Survival seems to you a refusal to obey
the way of things.
                                And in the shattering
of a window pane, you hear a judgment passed.