Deola Thinking

Deola passes her mornings sitting in a cafe,

and nobody looks at her. Everyone’s rushing to work,

under a sun still fresh with the dawn. Even Deola

isn’t looking for anyone: she smokes serenely, breathing

the morning. In years past, she slept at this hour

to recover her strength: the throw on her bed

was black with the boot-prints of soldiers and workers,

the backbreaking clients. But now, on her own,

it’s different: the work’s more refined, and it’s easier.

Like the gentleman yesterday, who woke her up early,

kissed her, and took her (I’d stay awhile, dear,

in Turin with you, if I could) to the station

to tell him goodbye.

She’s dazed this morning, but fresh—

Deola likes being free, likes drinking her milk

and eating brioches. This morning she’s nearly a lady,

and if she looks at anyone now, it’s just to pass the time.

The girls at the house are still sleeping. The air stinks,

the madam goes out for a walk, it’s crazy to stay there.

To work the bars in the evening you have to look good;

at that house, by thirty, you’ve lost what little looks you had left.

Deola sits with her profile turned toward a mirror

and looks at herself in the cool of the glass: her face pale,

and not from the smoke; her brow a bit furrowed.

To survive at that house, you’d need a will

like Marí used to have (because, honey, these men

come here to get something they can’t get at home

from their wives or their lovers) and Marí used to work

tirelessly, full of good cheer and blessed with good health.

The people who pass the cafe aren’t distracting Deola—

she only works evenings, making slow conquests

to music, in her usual bar. She’ll make eyes.

at a client, or nudge his foot, while enjoying the band

that makes her seem like an actress doing a love scene

with a young millionaire. One client each evening

is enough to scrape by on. (Maybe that gentleman from last night

really will take me with him.) To be alone, if she wants,

in the morning. To sit in a café. To not look for anyone.

Copyright Credit: Cesare Pavese, "Deola Thinking" from Disaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950. Copyright © 2002 by Cesare Pavese. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press. www.coppercanyonpress.org

Source: Dissaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950 (Copper Canyon Press, 2002)