Folio 6188d980
Italiano
The heron stands on one leg at the canal’s edge, motionless as the water’s reflection, until the trout breaks the surface in its slow silver arc. The bird does not strike; does not even shift its weight. It lets the fish rise, lets the moment hold longer than hunger, longer than I would dare to let any thought hold. The eye measures what the hand cannot build. The page forgets nothing.
English
The heron stands on one leg at the canal’s edge, motionless as the water’s reflection, until the trout breaks the surface in its slow silver arc. The bird does not strike; does not even shift its weight. It lets the fish rise, lets the moment hold longer than hunger, longer than I would dare to let any thought hold. The eye measures what the hand cannot build. The page forgets nothing.
