Perhaps he was troubled
By the moon dripping its silence
Sheep grazing on a hill secret agents of the clouds
The burden of the recent Strega Prize
Pavese unlatched his eyes
They floated off unpiloted dirigibles above Turin
Toward the great wall of Heaven
144 cubits high that hid its mysteries
Cesare you ate death
As one should quietly explore a woman
With mind awash in her atmosphere
Her charms like stars beyond number
By the moon dripping its silence
Sheep grazing on a hill secret agents of the clouds
The burden of the recent Strega Prize
Pavese unlatched his eyes
They floated off unpiloted dirigibles above Turin
Toward the great wall of Heaven
144 cubits high that hid its mysteries
Cesare you ate death
As one should quietly explore a woman
With mind awash in her atmosphere
Her charms like stars beyond number
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