Death Spits in Our Eye

David Foster Wallace has died. Reginald Shepherd has died. Early death. Violent death. Rage against God, man, life and death. Perhaps a passing adherent of one of our time-honoured strains of cosmic hoax will stop by the comments box to explain how these developments are helping to bring our beloved creator’s plans nicely to the boil. Death spits in our eye. From Leopardi’s ‘A Silvia’:

Che pensieri soavi,
che speranze, che cori, o Silvia mia!
Quale allor ci apparia
la vita umana e il fato!
Quando sovviemmi di cotanta speme,
un affetto mi preme
acerbo e sconsolato,
e tornami a doler di mia sventura.
O natura, o natura,
perché non rendi poi
quel che prometti allor? perché di tanto
inganni i figli tuoi?

And in Eamon Grennan’s fine translation:

What tender thoughts we had,
What hopes, what hearts, Silvia!
How fate and human life
Looked then! When I think
Of all those hopeful dreams
I’m bitterly stricken,
Beyond consolation, and begin
Lamenting again my own misfortunes.
Ah, nature, nature, why
Can you never make good
Your promises? why must you
So deceive your own children?