*

the high sky like the navel of nothingness

the dead consummate typewriter

the peacefulness.

the bells of noon on radio Boulez.

in through the window comes the scent of acacias which

awakens nostalgic memories of crabs.

dunes, wandering, a place,

seven leagues beyond the world’s end.

everything here has the color of goat milk,

the leaves, the talks, the Sundays,

death, the cats,

the seagulls’ whirling.

the days elapse without certitudes, without doubts.

the old men stare with bulging eyes

at their wrinkled shadows,

the village fool is officially hired

as a sexton.

the young women receive interminable letters

and money orders.

in each newspaper everyone

is enlightened on

themselves.

every morning,

the sun duly returns as a sun

the coastguard is a real coastguard,

the surprises remain the same.

and whatever hasn’t happened yet never stops

not happening.

Kriterion, 1982