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
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