So disappearing is the destiny of destinies.

Bring me the sunflower, let me plant it

in my field parched by the salt sea wind,

and let it show the blue reflecting sky

the yearning of its yellow face all day.

Dark things tend to brightness,

bodies fade out in a flood of colors,

colors in music. So disappearing is

the destiny of destinies.

Bring me the plant that leads the way

to where blond transparencies

rise, and life as essence turns to haze;

bring me the sunflower crazed with light.

Eugenio Montale

(translated by Jonathan Galassi)

(Erin's sunflower, Massey, Ont., Aug. 2019)