Stunned by the world, I reached an age <br />when I threw punches at air and cried to myself. <br />Listening to the speech of women and men, <br />not knowing how to respond, it's not fun. <br />But this too has passed: I'm not alone anymore, <br />and if I still don't know how to respond, <br />I don't need to. Finding myself, I found company. <br /> <br />I learned that before I was born I had lived <br />in men who were steady and firm, lords of themselves, <br />and none could respond and all remained calm. <br />Two brothers-in-law opened a store--our family's <br />first break. The outsider was serious, <br />scheming, ruthless, and mean--a woman. <br />The other one, ours, read novels at work, <br />which made people talk. When customers came, <br />they'd hear him say, in one or two words, <br />that no, there's no sugar, Epsom salts no, <br />we're all out of that. Later it happened <br />that this one lent a hand to the other, who'd gone broke. <br /> <br />Thinking of these folks makes me feel stronger <br />than looking in mirrors and sticking my chest out <br />or shaping my mouth into a humorless smile. <br />One of my grandfathers, ages ago, <br />was being cheated by one of his farmhands, <br />so he worked the vineyards himself, in the summer, <br />to make sure it was done right. That's how <br />I've always lived too, always maintaining <br />a steady demeanor, and paying in cash. <br /> <br />And women don't count in this family. <br />I mean that our women stay home <br />and bring us into the world and say nothing <br />and count for nothing and we don't remember them. <br />Each of them adds something new to our blood, <br />but they kill themselves off in the process, while we, <br />renewed by them, are the ones to endure. <br />We're full of vices and horrors and whims--<br /><br />Cesare Pavese<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ancestors-4/
