Water Lily
the calamus grows near standing water the stalk immobile amid damp grass it’s not the yellow of earth, similar to clouds flames send colors around as sun sets its petals are flimsy, ample-leafed the long salamander finds his way in there and lost in yellow, stares down its prey the shepherd returns cautiously, surveys the skies it couldn’t be the sun has gone under the clouds he hurries himself to the house where she lives the woman that forever has rejected him and in a crevice inserts the yellow lily if it remains for three days fixed to the wall not a person will touch it he meets the woman in the fields without speaking they go behind the rushes and they lay down together
— translated from the Italian by M. F. Rusnak