Perhaps One Morning Walking
by Eugenio Montale
(Forse un mattino andando in un’aria di vetro)
Perhaps one morning walking in dry glassy air,
I will turn, I will see the miracle complete:
nothingness at my shoulder, the void behind
me, with a drunkard’s terror.
Then, as on a screen, trees houses hills
will advance swiftly in familiar illusion,
But it will be too late; and I will return, silently,
to men who do not look back, with my secret.
Grace at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads, has challenged us to use a poem by Eugenio Montale as a model for our own. Among many other accomplishements, he was the 1975 Nobel Prize winner in literature. The challenge was most interesting and helped me understand why I've never gotten the prize. The following is mine.
Perhaps one morning as I walk among desert weeds,
the parting sky will gulp me up
to cosmic gardens never before known by anyone
like me, disolving into blissful colors
fragranced by perfection of a living sea.
Then, I'll be the sky, falling
back to little marble earth becomming big
in my eyes that have seen
what others cannot fathom.