POETRY: Annunciation, by Primo Levi

Don’t be dismayed, woman, by my fierce form.
I come from far away, in headlong flight;
Whirlwinds may have ruffled my feathers.
I am an angel, yes, and not a bird of prey;
An angel, but not the one in your paintings
That descended in another age to promise another Lord.
I come to bring you news, but wait until my heaving chest,
The loathing of the void and dark, subside.
Sleeping in you is one who will destroy much sleep.
He’s still unformed but soon you’ll caress his limbs.
He will have the gift of words, the fascinator’s eyes,
Will preach abomination and be believed by all.
Jubilant and wild, singing and bleeding,
They’ll follow him in bands, kissing his footprints.
He will carry the lie to the farthest borders.
Evangelize with blasphemy and the gallows.
He’ll rule in terror, suspect poisons
In spring-water, in the air of high plateaus.
He’ll see deceit in the clear eyes of the newborn,
And die unsated by slaughter, leaving behind sown hate.
This is your growing seed. Woman, rejoice.