(Cont.d)melancholy chant of long ago...
...over there I’ll put the pigeon-house
...don’t go away again...
my father sighs, he resembles me only
around the edges of the mouth,
then the dew of dream begins to quiver
around the small fires in the fields,
it puts one out, another barely hangs on
and a bright day God willing starts to rise.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)