Friday, January 24, 2020



Faithful joys for your fine field

forget, o farmer, your anxieties.

Forget the great snows and the evil

wolves, who press on your heart

and turn it black.

When in the dark cavern,

you look into the depths of the profound well

you see that star that amidst

the others has from then on changed

its splendor.


Toward a faraway country

where my sun shines,

beyond the cities, beyond the mountains

beyond the dune,

I wish, o night, that I might voyage in sleep

upon your white clouds

lit up by the moon.


Black and white man decomposes

who will ever be able to tell us

why this most beautiful rose

so unsettles my thought.


Giorgio de Chirico
Geometry of Shadows
translated from the Italian by Stefania Heim
A Public Space Books / Brooklyn / 2019