words old and spent and useless like costumes left over from yesterday’s parties

Rain will fall again 

on your smooth pavement, 

a light rain like 

a breath or a step. 

The breeze and the dawn 

will flourish again 

when you return, 

as if beneath your step. 

Between flowers and sills 

the cats will know. 

 

There will be other days, 

there will be other voices. 

You will smile alone. 

The cats will know. 

You will hear words 

old and spent and useless 

like costumes left over 

from yesterday’s parties. 

 

You too will make gestures. 

You’ll answer with words— 

face of springtime, 

you too will make gestures. 

 

The cats will know, 

face of springtime; 

and the light rain 

and the hyacinth dawn 

that wrench the heart of him 

who hopes no more for you— 

they are the sad smile 

you smile by yourself. 

 

There will be other days, 

other voices and renewals. 

Face of springtime, 

we will suffer at daybreak. 

 

 

 

[Cesare Pavese {1908-1950} 'The Cats Will Know' {trans. from the Italian by Geoffrey Brock} from Disaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950]