How Many Long Bleak Nights Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

How many long bleak nights
Will follow after you:
The humid air will surfeit with stillness
The sea-waves lie still as the Dead Sea.

Salt will paste your lips; the sweet
Of oranges and gourds all liquor-full
Will elude you.

The broken pitcher will
Lie in the yard where it was broke:
Nobody will care to gather up the pieces.

But look at them yes! Look at them
As relics of the ‘old’ (they say)
As the Parthenon in the sun
Or Roman ruins smiling in the favor
Of high Italian skies all cloudless-young.

The broken pieces will lie on the ground.
Dawn will rise after dawn; the day will set.
Seasons will follow each other cyclical.
Centuries will pass as years and months and days.