Monday 15 February 2016

Umberto Saba: The Goat


I talked to a goat,
Alone in the field, tied to a post,
Full up with grass, soaked
Through with rain, bleating.

That monotone was brother
To my grief. I answered back: first
For fun, but then because sorrow's
Forever, and is monotonous.
I heard its voice
Sounding in a solitary goat.

From a goat with a semitic face
I heard all ills, all lives,
Lamenting.


Written 1910, tr. Martin Seymour-Smith. An unforced humane poem: much of Saba's poetry seems to be a humane record of his life. It was a life that had much of the standard grist for poets (severe depression, infidelities, sexual confusion, literary quarrels, anger at lack of recognition) but the poetry comes from a core of gentleness.

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