Whose is this work, called love

Oh, Augustus, it is rather I, or my poem, that is not wor-thy of my friends; yet do not again accuse me of false modesty ..

.. You cannot deny that your plan of destruction is criminal.

That which happens by the command of the gods cannot be criminal.

You are evasive, Virgil; when one is in the wrong he takes refuge in the will of the gods; I for my part have never yet heard of them ordering the destruction of [shared] property.

   eleven stories up

   and you're off

   bounding as al-

   ways on the balls

   of your feet mak-

   ing the crossing

   into your Tenth

   Street life to

   find your band of

   instant comrades

   sworn in fealty

   against a common

   foe that huge

   half hidden world

   of yours I'll

   never know.

   Hearing you it's

   hard to recognize

   that you could be

   adept at dissolu-

   tion. To me your

   husky tones meant

   loving-kindness,

   upland acceptance,

   rooms without

   shame. Please, no

   more visits to 

   the underworld.

   We need you here

   if we're not to

   be phantoms our-

   selves.

   ..

Hermann Broch
The Death of Virgil
Jean Starr Untermeyer, translation
1945
Random House, 1972©


Jonathan Galassi
Left-Handed
    A Wave [fragment]
op. cit.