Death will come and have your eyes. Cesare Pavese
Death will come and have your eyes
this
death that accompanies us from morning to night, sleepless, deaf,
like an old remorse or an absurd vice.
Your eyes will be an empty word,
a muted cry, a silence.
So you see every morning
When you lean one in the mirror. Dear
hope
that day we also know that you are the life and nothingness.
Death has a look for everyone.
Death will come and have your eyes.
be like leaving a vice
like watching re-emerges
a dead face in the mirror,
like listening to a closed-lip. Descend
the vortex, dumb.
spend mornings clear and deserted. Similarly
your eyes were opened long ago.
The morning passed slowly, a vortex of light was moving. Silent.
your street, alive, living things under your eyes (or pain, or fever, or shadow) like a sea
morning, of course.
Where you are, light is the morning. Eras
life and things.
breathed in you, awake
under heaven is in us yet. Neither
penalty or fever, then
or heavy shadow of the day is full of people and different.
Light, clear away, breathing
tired toward us
still and clear eyes.
is dark in the morning that passes without the light of your eyes.
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