The White Cat
A moonlit night
has left a jot
upon a capital.
It stirs - and spreads
a silver-stamened head,
like a vine, a sable
tail clinging to marble.
A white cat: a life lasting a day.
Then the same moon
at the same hour of night
turns her gaze
and the cat drowns
in the flood of moonlight.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)