Capitolo 66
Jump of lights the hill reddens down him in front of him.
The sumptuous night has started again.
'I will ask to all of them, I will ask to them all of their dreams,
I will hold my light above of them and I will look for their faces,
I will feel them whisper, invisible in their veins. . . . '
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the obscurity,
Or as a wind blown on an innumerable forest,
Or as the innumerable voices of long-drawn rains.
We feel him/it to us and we pick him/it up among us likes a wind of music,
As the ghost of a music we have felt in some place;
We crowd there through the roads in a shine of pale lamplight,
We pour in a left mass, we salt a step,
With laughter and he/she cries, with word on murmured word,
We flow, we come down, we turn. . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moved on among us as light as air in the evening. . .
Good night! good night! good night! we go our ways,
The rain works on the flooring in front of our feet,
The cold precipitations, the rain sings.
We walk, we race, we ride. We turn there the faces
To what brings the eternal evening.
Our hands have warm and raw with the stones that we have placed,
We have built a tower of tall stone in the sky.
We have built a city of towers.
Our hands are light, they is singing with empty.
Our souls are light. They has shaken a load of times. . . .
What did we build it for? Was it everything one dream? . . .
Ghostly above of us in lamplight the glint of towers. . .
And after some they will fall to dust and to rain;
We will lacerate down otherwise them to us with impatient hands;
And it cuts out stone some earth, and he/she builds again them.
1916