Death will come with your eyes

this death that accompanies us

from morning till night, sleepless,

deaf, like an old regret

or a stupid vice. Your eyes

will be a useless word,

a muted cry, a silence.

As you see them each morning

when alone you lean over 

the mirror. O cherished hope,

that day we too shall know

that you are life and nothing.

For everyone death has a look.

Death will come with your eyes.

It will be like terminating a vice,

as seen in the mirror

a dead face re-emerging,

like listening to closed lips.

We'll go down the abyss in silence. 

Cesare Pavese

On August 27, After winning a literary award, he committed suicide in a Turin hotel room by a barbiturate overdose.