Gutta Serena

The people bring you a peasant’s daughter,

a year and a half old, deprived of sight,

though she clearly enjoys being in the light

near the window. But first, some water

to cleanse her face, her eyes, and check

whether her complaint may be cataract

although the fact of the matter is that

her eyes are well formed, free of specks

or clouds. “Was she born in this state?”

you ask the mother. “Was there gradual loss?”

The mother says she’s convinced, of course,

when she was with child, all night, all day

she tended to her mother, supposedly dying,

who recovered her illness, but recovered blind,

and try as they might they could not find

a reason for her blindness. She’d be lying

if she didn’t think this was the cause. You fear

for such misfortune you know of no remedy,

except perhaps the child’s cradle should be

placed with the feet toward the window. Clear-

ly, this is so she might gradually acquire

a habit of turning her eyes in pursuit of light.

Blindness passes on blindness, just as sight

is earned by repeated efforts to be purer, higher.