Pier Paolo Pasolini - “Poem No. 1 for Ninetto Davoli”

Your place was at my side,
and you were proud of this.
But, sitting with your arm on the steering wheel
you said, “I can’t go on. I must stay here, alone.”
If you remain in this provincial village you’ll fall into a trap.
We all do. I don’t know how or when but you will.
The years that comprise a life vanish in an instant.
You are quiet, pensive. I know it is love
that is tearing us apart.
I have given you
all the power of my existence,
yet you are humble and proud, obeying a destiny
that wants you to remain impoverished. You don’t know
what to do, whether to give in or not.
I can’t pretend your resistance
doesn’t cause me pain.
I can see the future. There is blood on the sand.