The Tale of Small ThingsMore than last year the leaf furls
it shudders it sags as god wills
(the god of all leaves) this thundering
almighty a little foolish cradles it
the stunted leaf wastes away ─ and he mocks it.
Cradle of air, it’s true, this is the tale
of very small things
even if that leaf
happened to be the very last: why is it dancing
on that razor’s edge
now that the tipsy air begins to swell a cloud
two clouds of sulphur (it has strength enough)
as many clouds it can above the houses
(its nose itches) and kindles the pupil
of the sky?
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)