...

"Return. In the room where I had embraced her
shapes revealed by the curtains of light, a linger-
ing breath: and in the twilight my unsullied
lamp stars my heart longing for memories again.
Faces, faces whose eyes laughed in the just-
blooming dreamflower, you young charioteers
on the weightless dreamstreets you garlanded so
zealously : O fragile poems, O garland of night-
loves . . . A Song breaks from the garden like
the weak link in a chain of sobs: the vein is open:
dry and red and sweet is the skeletal panorama
of the world."

from The Night , Italo Calvino