In thinking through the title of Ezra Pound's A Lume Spento, which cites Dante's imagination of the unlit transmission of a heretic's bones to the Verde River, the past days have been full of tides, startled by Lila's dream of San Clemente full of water: the river Tevere, its eels and desecreated bodies, its healing snake vision still resonant in the hospital of Fatebenefratelli, the tyrant Tarquinius Superbus thrown in only to become an island, or the infinite countereternal immolations.