***
Now
that day is coming,
the
thought disturbs
the
moon that is setting—
such
a silence, so unusual,
as
if from before the world.
How
happy people
must
have been
before
the industrial age,
yet
their souls ignored
their
happiness completely,
just
as we ignore our own;
by
contrast I have the feeling
that
we are still in Paradise,
and
even this odious anthill
of
a city seemed acceptable,
and
the sky ennobles us.
I
drag behind me
remnants
of tragedy,
the
nihilism of a fallen god.
I
hear Sophocles’ voice:
Πολλά
εἶναι τὰ φοβερά
μα
τίποτα δεν εἶναι
φοβερώτερο
ἀπὸ τὸν ἄνθρωπο —
Many
are the terrors, but none
is
more terrifying than man.
What
a calamity this life is—
I
have left my country, my friends;
I
have hidden my heart
in
the old walls, sitting alone
I
remember no one.
Only
the moon seems to watch us.
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