text mode CrossConnect previous next

Home
Issue Contents
Contributors
E-mail Us
   u n t i t l e d    (a p r i l    2 1,    1 9 2 9)

--- C E S A R E   P A V E S E


	translated by Susan Thomas

Sluggish swallows fly through the colorless dusk. Sadder than this I will never be: only a little more weary, in the final agony.

It isn't just my cowardice: those dying ones that let a death rattle escape from their throats, are they maybe cowards too?

The frenzied swallows, prisoners of the sky, are driven crazy by sameness.

Inside the roar of blood my brain turns over an atrocious desire for madness.

© crossconnect, inc 1995-2006 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |