Capitolo 11
We come down our separate steps toward the day,
Unites in the sleepy mass that fills the road,
You lift our eyes to the blue and soft space of sky,
And it walks from the notorious walls with accustomed feet.
II. THE CARRIED OUT DREAM
More towers must be build still--more towers destroyed--
Stones Grans raised in air;
And he has to look for his/her bread in pale and tall light of the sun
With gulls around him, and it clouds only him on his/her eyes. . .
And so he didn't mention his/her dream to fall
But he/she drank his/her coffee in silence, and it felt in his/her ears
That horrible whistle of wind and felt his/her breath
Sucked out of him, and he/she saw the tower flash from
And the small long sea of tree under of him. . .
He caressed his/her boy on the head, and he/she kissed his/her wife,
Quickly looked at the room remember him/it,,--
And so it went out. . . For once, he forgot his/her bucket.
Anything was changed--but it was not the road--
The road was alone the same one--he was.
Puddles flashed in the sun. In the door of pawnshop
The same old cat of black made the occhiolino green amber eyes;
The butcher been next to his/her tying of the window his/her apron;
The same men walked close to him, while smoking pipes,
Reading the paper in the morning. . .
He would not produce, he thought, and it walks more slowly,
As if he knew for certain he walked to death:
But with his usual pace,--deliberate, firm,
Calmly looking around him looking at the world,,
Taking his/her ease. . . Anchor, when he thought again
Of the same dream, now the dreamed three separate times,
Always the same, and it felt that whistling wind,
And it the windows that flash past direct upward him,--
Him the slowed his/her rhythm a small and thought with horror
As monstrously that small push of I plant with trees for satisfying him/it! . . .
Him the slowed his/her rhythm a small and he/she remembered his/her wife.
Were forty, then, too much old man for job as this?
Because you/he/she should be? He had never been afraid--
Its eye was sure, its hand was you consolidate. . .