Vultures guard boats hauled from sand to surf
as fishermen roll logs beneath the hull
unspool nets cross Gigante sloping turfs
Standing between the grooved lull
A strange marriage between man and bird
Circling above and walking embankments
swinging bent necks in a morose herd
Hunchbacked witches in black dress flap garments
Their perfumed bodies lure hungry lovers
drenched in the salt and blood bill
flecks of flesh tangled in hair of others
dancing in the sky, eyes on the kill.
They call, they come, then sit, and so wait.
praying on red flotsam and grizzled bait.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem