Giorgio Orelli

Carnival at Prato Levantina

This is the Undone Sunday,
without a cry or flight from the strange
gashes in the sky.
                   But the hares
ran invisible over the snowy
lawns, and discreet designs remain
from the silent orgy.

Children hidden in old men
with light humpbacks and heavy heads
return home taciturn
after dinner, greeting
with resigned gestures.
                   I follow from a distance
as they sink gently into the snow.

                                                                        translation by Lynne Lawner