Departure

What a fright your cat took

when the two strangely adorned strangers

walked into the house uninvited!

And how it nearly jumped out of its skin,

poor cat, as it faced their dog

their pale horse, swords and hawk!

It hid in a corner of the yard and waited

not foreseeing

that in a few minutes the neighbours would show up and the ambulance, pale;

that your children wouldn’t make it on time.

The cat – to this day refusing to believe

that you are forever gone.

Who will tend it now

by whose feet will it sit

who will it playfully ask for caresses

to whose words will it harken?

Craftsmen of rare jewels

“dilci, che ‘l sai: di che sapore è l’oro?”

Dante Alighieri, Divina Commedia: Purgatorio,

Canto XX, 116

They said they knew the taste of gold –

the craftsmen of rare jewels.

How delicate their tools on the bench

how neurasthenic their precision scales!

But you, who fought against rust

knew what they sold was never pure

those masters of alchemy and mixtures.

And their scales could not speak…

That’s why they kept on selling unperturbed lotus

flowers and promises in baskets

as craftsmen above any suspicion.

While you, who tormented humble metals with the sledgehammer,

never learned the art of beating around the bush,

of manoeuvres, of nonsense, of ramblings.