An excerpt from Marc di Saverio’s epic poem Crito Di Volta. Here, after some introductory material, Crito delivers his sermon on the mount, as it were. . .
Picture T. S. Eliot as Magus, stopping a rain drop mid-air,
asking of it how it turns the world on its head, inquiring
whence it came. . .
This quiet roof where doves stray and dip
Pulsates between the pines, the tombs.
Out of fire even-handed noon composes
The sea, the sea, ever recommencing.
O what recompense after thought’s travail
This long gazing on the gods’ repose!
As I came drifting down unruffled rivers,
I could no longer feel the haulers’ guiding pulls.
Redskins had taken the boatmen for bull’s-eyes
and, hooting, nailed them naked to painted poles.
A remarkable translation by di Saverio of Canto I from Dante’s Inferno prepares the reader for when Crito meets Dante. . .
The salmon is still in the noiseless black; she was quick-silvered star to the ship whose hull has sunk below the bottom of the lake.
The spotted hogs trot past to the abattoir.
Their flanks are mired with fear-dung, and they squeal.
Belle and Sebastian are coming to town…
Three Poems by David Solway