#PoetryTakeMeAway

"The journey ends here:
in the petty cares that divide
the soul that no longer knows how to cry out.
Now the minutes are equal and fixed
like the turns of the pump's wheel.
One turn: a rise of water that resounds.
Another, water again, at times a creak.

The journey ends at this beach
that the persistent and slow currents tempt.
Nothing reveals, except for lazy fumes,
the sea that weaves of coves
the gentle puffs: and it's rare that it appears
in the silent calm
among the islands of the wandering air
Corsica’s ruggedness or Capraia.

You ask if everything vanishes thus
in this little mist of memories;
if in the hour that is sluggish or in the sigh
of the surf every destiny is fulfilled.
I would like to tell you no, that the hour approaches
when you will pass beyond time;
perhaps only those who wish are infinite,
and you might be able to, who knows, not I.
I think that for most, there is no salvation,
but someone can overturn every design,
pass through the gap, find themselves as they willed.
Before I give in, I would like to mark for you
this way of escape,
fragile as in the agitated fields
of the sea foam or wrinkle.
I also give you my scant hope.
To new days, weary, I don’t know how to nurture it:
I offer it as a pledge to your fate, may it spare you.

The path ends at these shores
where the tide gnaws with alternating motion.
Your heart nearby that does not hear me
already perhaps sets sail for the eternal."

Eugenio Montale, Casa sul Mare. 1925