Cesare Pavese: Notes on Certain Unwritten Poems
The poem he will write is like a door, it opens out to his ability to create; and he will go through that door—he will write other poems, he will exploit the ground and leave it exhausted.
October 26, 2025 · 4 Comments
Cesare Pavese: Displaced People
Suppose tomorrow, bright and early, we took a trip
to my hills. We could stroll through the vineyards and, maybe,
meet with a couple of girls, dark brown, ripened by the sun,
we could start a conversation and sample some of their grapes.
October 10, 2025 · 6 Comments
Cesare Pavese: Ancestors
I found out I had lived, before I was born,
in hard, sturdy, independent men, their own masters.
None of them knew what to say, so they just kept quiet.
June 27, 2025 · 7 Comments
