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Crevice Weeds Writings—«waifs of many a wreck»—motley and fragmentary writings—sketchy and faulty—failed, perhaps—unconfined—along the borders, upon the thresholds and into the chinks of literature, «as foam that the sea-winds fret»…

Old Sayings

Alessandro Zabini





… of some thirty lines once written
only the following unwitting excerpts are extant …







his love story
the love life he wished for
the love life of which he dreamed of
the life of which he dreamed of
and down into his dreams
there she was—though then
the greatest fortune was
for another one
—waning love—though
on him were bestowed perhaps
her love’s rays of light
—and she was poetry
and as she said
he had nothing more
than a vast soul
and it was enough




(Early Spring, maybe, 1979)












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