Home ⇒ 📌Primo Levi ⇒ The Survivor
The Survivor
Once more he sees his companions’ faces
Livid in the first faint light,
Gray with cement dust,
Nebulous in the mist,
Tinged with death in their uneasy sleep.
At night, under the heavy burden
Of their dreams, their jaws move,
Chewing a non-existant turnip.
‘Stand back, leave me alone, submerged people,
Go away. I haven’t dispossessed anyone,
Haven’t usurped anyone’s bread.
No one died in my place. No one.
Go back into your mist.
It’s not my fault if I live and breathe,
Eat, drink, sleep and put on clothes.’
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Epitaph On Elizabeth Wouldst thou hear what man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty as could die; Which in life did harbor give To more virture than doth live. If at all she had a fault, Leave it buried in this vault. One name was Elizabeth, Th’ other let […]...
- On Elizabeth L. H Epitaphs i WOULDST thou hear what Man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much Beauty as could die: Which in life did harbour give To more Virtue than doth live. If at all she had a fault, Leave it buried in this vault. One name was Elizabeth, The […]...
- NO FAULT IN WOMEN No fault in women, to refuse The offer which they most would chuse. No fault: in women, to confess How tedious they are in their dress; No fault in women, to lay on The tincture of vermilion; And there to give the cheek a dye Of white, where Nature doth deny. No fault in women, […]...
- Survivor Everyday, I think about dying. About disease, starvation, Violence, terrorism, war, The end of the world. It helps Keep my mind off things....
- The Survivor I am twenty-four Led to slaughter I survived. The following are empty synonyms: Man and beast Love and hate Friend and foe Darkness and light. The way of killing men and beasts is the same I’ve seen it: Truckfuls of chopped-up men Who will not be saved. Ideas are mere words: Virtue and crime Truth […]...
- Ode on Solitude Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whose heards with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire. Blest! who can unconcern’dly find Hours, days, and years […]...
- Holy Sonnet XIV: Batter My Heart, Three-Personed God Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurped town, to another due, Labor to admit you, but O, to no end; Reason, […]...
- Solitude Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield shade, In winter, fire. Blest, who can unconcern’dly find Hours, days, and years, slide […]...
- Poets Vain is the chiming of forgotten bells That the wind sways above a ruined shrine. Vainer his voice in whom no longer dwells Hunger that craves immortal Bread and Wine. Light songs we breathe that perish with our breath Out of our lips that have not kissed the rod. They shall not live who have […]...
- Democracy Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right As the other fellow has To stand On my two feet And own the land. I tire so of hearing people say, Let things take their course. Tomorrow is another day. I do not need my freedom […]...
- Sonnet 01: Thou Art Not Lovelier Than Lilacs,-No Thou art not lovelier than lilacs,-no, Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more fair Than small white single poppies,-I can bear Thy beauty; though I bend before thee, though From left to right, not knowing where to go, I turn my troubled eyes, nor here nor there Find any refuge from thee, yet I swear So […]...
- The Liars (March, 1919)A LIAR goes in fine clothes. A liar goes in rags. A liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes. A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies. And the stonecutters earn a living-with lies-on the tombs of liars. Aliar looks ’em in […]...
- Adam's Complaint Some people, No matter what you give them, Still want the moon. The bread, The salt, White meat and dark, Still hungry. The marriage bed And the cradle, Still empty arms. You give them land, Their own earth under their feet, Still they take to the roads. And water: dig them the deepest well, Still […]...
- Prelude I have eaten your bread and salt. I have drunk your water and wine. In deaths ye died I have watched beside, And the lives ye led were mine. Was there aught that I did not share In vigil or toil or ease, One joy or woe that I did not know, Dear hearts across […]...
- Last Answers I wrote a poem on the mist And a woman asked me what I meant by it. I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist, how pearl and gray of it mix and reel, And change the drab shanties with lighted lamps at evening into points of mystery quivering with color. […]...
- A Western Ballad When I died, love, when I died My heart was broken in your care; I never suffered love so fair As now I suffer and abide When I died, love, when I died. When I died, love, when I died I wearied in an endless maze That men have walked for centuries, As endless as […]...
- Warning When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandles, and say we’ve no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired And gobble up […]...
- The King's Breakfast The King’s Breakfast The King asked The Queen, and The Queen asked The Dairymaid: “Could we have some butter for The Royal slice of bread?” The Queen asked the Dairymaid, The Dairymaid Said, “Certainly, I’ll go and tell the cow Now Before she goes to bed.” The Dairymaid She curtsied, And went and told The […]...
- After Prayers, Lie Cold Arise my body, my small body, we have striven Enough, and He is merciful; we are forgiven. Arise small body, puppet-like and pale, and go, White as the bed-clothes into bed, and cold as snow, Undress with small, cold fingers and put out the light, And be alone, hush’d mortal, in the sacred night, -A […]...
- The New Ezekiel What, can these dead bones live, whose sap is dried By twenty scorching centuries of wrong? Is this the House of Israel, whose pride Is as a tale that’s told, an ancient song? Are these ignoble relics all that live Of psalmist, priest, and prophet? Can the breath Of very heaven bid these bones revive, […]...
- January 1 Some people confuse inspiration with lightning Not me I know it comes from the lungs and air You breathe it in you breathe it out it circulates It’s the breath of my being the wind across the face Of the waters yes but it’s also something that comes At my command like a turkey club […]...
- Bells in the Rain Sleep falls, with limpid drops of rain, Upon the steep cliffs of the town. Sleep falls; men are at peace again While the small drops fall softly down. The bright drops ring like bells of glass Thinned by the wind, and lightly blown; Sleep cannot fall on peaceful grass So softly as it falls on […]...
- The Aliens you may not believe it But there are people Who go through life with Very little Friction or Distress. They dress well, eat Well, sleep well. They are contented with Their family Life. They have moments of Grief But all in all They are undisturbed And often feel Very good. And when they die It […]...
- Everybody Knows (co-written by Sharon Robinson) Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows that the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That’s how it goes Everybody knows Everybody knows that the boat […]...
- Song To Celia – II Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent […]...
- Giant Toad I am too big. Too big by far. Pity me. My eyes bulge and hurt. They are my one great beauty, even So. They see too much, above, below. And yet, there is not much To see. The rain has stopped. The mist is gathering on my skin In drops. The drops run down my […]...
- The Strangest Creature On Earth You’re like a scorpion, my brother, You live in cowardly darkness like a scorpion. You’re like a sparrow, my brother, Always in a sparrow’s flutter. You’re like a clam, my brother, Closed like a clam, content, And you’re frightening, my brother, like the mouth of an extinct volcano. Not one, not five Unfortunately, you number […]...
- The Akond of Swat Who, or why, or which, or what, Is the Akond of SWAT? Is he tall or short, or dark or fair? Does he sit on a stool or a sofa or a chair, or SQUAT, The Akond of Swat? Is he wise or foolish, young or old? Does he drink his soup and his coffee […]...
- The Haymakers' Song HERE’S to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it, That scatters it and shakes it, That turns, and teds, and rakes it, Clink, jugs, clink! Now here ‘s to him that stacks it, Drink, lads, drink! That thrashes […]...
- Time Stands Still over Govandi Station A kite flutters, On a high tension wire – Against a stark blue sky. Beggar and old mother huddle On Govandi Railway Station – The dirtiest station in the universe. He shows her a plastic watch, Smiles, “See I have time,” She, old, gnarled, wrinkled, Looks through beady eyes, “I have no need for time.” […]...
- Letters I was thinking of letters, We all have a lot in our life A few good – a few sad But mostly run of the mill- I suppose that’s my fault For writing to run of the mill people. I’ve never had a letter I really wanted It might come one day But then, it […]...
- GARAGE SALE I sold her bed for a song. A song of yearning like an orphan’s. Or the one knives carve into bread. But the un-broken bread Song too. For the song that rivers Sing to the ferryman’s oars. With that dread in it. For a threadbare tune: garroted, Chest-choked, cheap. A sparrow’s, beggar’s, a foghorn’s call. […]...
- Moon In Virgo You are not beaten. The simple music rises up, Children’s voices in the air, sound floating out Across the land and on to the river beyond, Over the valley’s floor. No, you cannot go back For those things you lost, the parts of yourself That were taken, often by force. Like an animal In the […]...
- AT VERONA How steep the stairs within King’s houses are For exile-wearied feet as mine to tread, And O how salt and bitter is the bread Which falls from this Hound’s table, – better far That I had died in the red ways of war, Or that the gate of Florence bare my head, Than to live […]...
- Houses People who are afraid of themselves Multiply themselves into families And so divide themselves And so become less afraid. People who might have to go out Into clanging strangers’ laughter, Crowd under roofs, make compacts To no more than smile at each other. People who might meet their own faces Or surprise their own voices […]...
- Stupidity Stupidity, woe’s anodyne, Be kind and comfort me in mine; Smooth out the furrows of my brow, Make me as carefree as a cow, Content to sleep and eat and drink And never think Stupidity, let me be blind To all the ills of humankind; Fill me with simple sentiment To walk the way my […]...
- A Toast to the Men Here’s to the men! Since Adam’s time They’ve always been the same; Whenever anything goes wrong, The woman is to blame. From early morn to late at night, The men fault-finders are; They blame us if they oversleep, Or if they miss a car. They blame us if, beneath the bed, Their collar buttons roll; […]...
- Curse of a Rich Polish Peasant on His Sister Who Ran Away With a Wild Man FELIKSOWA has gone again from our house and this time for good, I hope. She and her husband took with them the cow father gave them, and they sold it. She went like a swine, because she called neither on me, her brother, nor on her father, before leaving for those forests. That is where […]...
- Herman Altman Did I follow Truth wherever she led, And stand against the whole world for a cause, And uphold the weak against the strong? If I did I would be remembered among men As I was known in life among the people, And as I was hated and loved on earth, Therefore, build no monument to […]...
- Does It Matter? Does it matter?-losing your legs? For people will always be kind, And you need not show that you mind When others come in after hunting To gobble their muffins and eggs. Does it matter?-losing you sight? There’s such splendid work for the blind; And people will always be kind, As you sit on the terrace […]...