Eliot, T. S.: La Figlia Che Piange

La Figlia Che Piange (Angol)

O quam te memorem Virgo ...*

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair--

Lean on a garden urn--

Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair--

Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise--

Fling them to the ground and turn

With a fugitive resentment in your eyes:

But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.

So I would have had him leave,

So I would have had her stand and grieve,

So he would have left

As the soul leaves the body torn and bruised,

As the mind deserts the body it has used.

I should find

Some way incomparably light and deft,

Some way we both should understand,

Simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand.

She turned away, but with the autumn weather

Compelled my imagination many days,

Many days and many hours:

Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.

And I wonder how they should have been together!

I should have lost a gesture and a pose.

Sometimes these cogitations still amaze

The troubled midnight and the noon's repose.

 * “O virgin! or what other name you bear...”

     ( John Dryden) Virgil, Aeneid, I, 326

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