This poem is taken from PN Review 68, Volume 15 Number 6, July - August 1989.Six Poems
At Montale's Grave
Now that the tablet of eternity
is chiselled with your name, we come to pay
the tribute of our post-modernity
for all that we believe you had to say,
who hear you only faintly, filtered through
a gauze of echoes sounding in a voice
that may be counterfeit; and yet this noise
seems to expand our notion of the true.
A vanished face, a moment crazed with light,
mother-of-pearl that flashes in the night:
intimations of the miracle
when the null steps forward as the all -
these were signals, sparks that spattered from
the anvil of illusions where you learned
the music of a generation burned
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