Words That Burn

Windy Day, by David Maria Turoldo (1916-1992)

I have no pity

for this naked heart of mine;

 

just as one windy day

a tree was beating the glass

with insane arms

the sea was one huge sob;

 

And there on the shore

foam-covered stones

were scarcely breathing,

and there was wreckage

of boats and branches

and a shoe tossed among pebbles;

and the tatter of a dress;

and I from my cell window

watched laughing.

 

(Trans. by Margo and Anthony Viscusi)