A hit-and-miss short collection of Levi's poetry whose sublime beauty with words occasionally leap from this mini book's pages (Get Up, To The Valley, Heart of Wood). Whenever it doesn't impress, it feels distant which is perhaps a shortcoming due to the translation. A lot of biblical references from here to there, some inspired by T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland, Levi sketches the horrifying events of WWII, the lasting emotional and psychological corollary against spiritual-seeking moments within the transience and sorrow of our existence.

One that has struck ——
Monday

What is sadder than a train?
That leaves on time,
That only makes one sound,
That only goes one way.
Nothing's sadder than a train.

Unless it is a cart horse.
It's locked between two poles.
I can't even look askance.
Its whole life is plodding.

And a man? Isn't a man sad?
If he lives alone for long
If he thinks time is over,
A mans's a sad thing, too. ( )