12 SEPTEMBER 1957, Page 23

Corsica

A landscape which breaks the heart And a child in a world of ghosts Trying to grasp with a wrinkled hand A wistful star in the pale blue sky Scented shrubs, trees straight as rods • And among them, green years and the ache Of receding dreams flowing back To griefless dawns of singing woods.

Under the sun when it flails the plain In the rage of summer, in the shades of trees, By the white-laced aquamarine sea, Or along dusty roads sizzling in the rain, Always the same metamorphosis of man into child King of the winged and leafy world, Singing the glory of his newly-born days, And stabbed to the heart by the blade of spent years.

JO CHIARI