Sealife in blue
I see before me a Formica table greasy playing cards
and dirty fingernails.
The ship is stuck between a watery valley of green
waves.
In my ignorance, I look at the map on the wall
it shows land and sea, but little else.
In the corner of the map, something idiotic
is written in Latin:
"Navigation is more important than life."
I think of Vale Paradiso; the ship is cumbersome
Ploughing its way there.
The waterside bars are all the same,
whores, music and booze.
This time I will stay on board, play a cabal with greasy cards
on a Formica table.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem