{"id":4332,"date":"2018-08-15T10:02:24","date_gmt":"2018-08-15T10:02:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/2018\/08\/15\/cesare-pavese-passion-for-solitude\/"},"modified":"2018-08-15T10:02:24","modified_gmt":"2018-08-15T10:02:24","slug":"cesare-pavese-passion-for-solitude","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/2018\/08\/15\/cesare-pavese-passion-for-solitude\/","title":{"rendered":"Cesare Pavese, “Passion for Solitude”"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Passion for Solitude<\/a><\/span><\/h1>\n<\/div>\n
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BY CESARE PAVESE<\/a><\/span><\/div>\n
TRANSLATED BY GEOFFREY BROCK<\/a><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\"Cesare_pavese1-417x275\"<\/a>I\u2019m eating a little supper by the bright window.<\/span><\/div>\n
The room\u2019s already dark, the sky\u2019s starting to turn.<\/span><\/div>\n
Outside my door, the quiet roads lead,<\/span><\/div>\n
after a short walk, to open fields.<\/span><\/div>\n
I\u2019m eating, watching the sky\u2014who knows<\/span><\/div>\n
how many women are eating now. My body is calm:<\/span><\/div>\n
labor dulls all the senses, and dulls women too.<\/span><\/div>\n
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Outside, after supper, the stars will come out to touch<\/span><\/div>\n
the wide plain of the earth. The stars are alive,<\/span><\/div>\n
but not worth these cherries, which I\u2019m eating alone.<\/span><\/div>\n
I look at the sky, know that lights already are shining<\/span><\/div>\n
among rust-red roofs, noises of people beneath them.<\/span><\/div>\n
A gulp of my drink, and my body can taste the life<\/span><\/div>\n
of plants and of rivers. It feels detached from things.<\/span><\/div>\n
A small dose of silence suffices, and everything\u2019s still,<\/span><\/div>\n
in its true place, just like my body is still.<\/span><\/div>\n
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All things become islands before my senses,<\/span><\/div>\n
which accept them as a matter of course: a murmur of silence.<\/span><\/div>\n
All things in this darkness\u2014I can know all of them,<\/span><\/div>\n
just as I know that blood flows in my veins.<\/span><\/div>\n
The plain is a great flowing of water through plants,<\/span><\/div>\n
a supper of all things. Each plant, and each stone,<\/span><\/div>\n
lives motionlessly. I hear my food feeding my veins<\/span><\/div>\n
with each living thing that this plain provides.<\/span><\/div>\n
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The night doesn\u2019t matter. The square patch of sky<\/span><\/div>\n
whispers all the loud noises to me, and a small star<\/span><\/div>\n
struggles in emptiness, far from all foods,<\/span><\/div>\n
from all houses, alien. It isn\u2019t enough for itself,<\/span><\/div>\n
it needs too many companions. Here in the dark, alone,<\/span><\/div>\n
my body is calm, it feels it\u2019s in charge.<\/span><\/div>\n
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Cesare Pavese, "Passion for Solitude" from Disaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950<\/em>. Copyright \u00a9 2002 by Cesare Pavese. Reprinted with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townshend, WA 98368-0271, coppercanyonpress.org. <\/span>Source: Disaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950<\/em> (Copper Canyon Press, 2002)<\/span> <\/span><\/div>\n
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………………………<\/span><\/div>\n
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Who knows how many women are eating now, women dulled by labor, thought of by Cesare, alone at table, in a dark room, who, like the struggling star is alone, but unlike the star, is enough for himself, body calm and in charge feeling no need for a woman.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n