Eternity may well
Be only a river
Be a forgotten horse
And the cooing
...
The dove was wrong.
The dove was mistaken.
To travel north she flew south,
Believing the wheat was water.
...
I sell clouds of colours,
Ellipses, reddened
To temper the heat!
...
Today, the clouds brought me,
In flight, the map of Spain.
How small over the river,
How vast over the meadow
...
With gentle red assaults, Dawn, I was granting you names:
Mistaken dream, Angel without exit, Falsehood of rain in the trees.
At the edges of my soul, that recalls the rivers,
Indecisive, hesitant, still.
...
If my voice dies on land,
Carry it down to the sea,
And leave it there on the shore.
...
Go, drinking fields and cities,
Transformed to a great deer of water,
Be the ocean of bright dawns,
The kingfisher's nest on the waves.
...
Above the still moon of a mirror,
I praise a fraternal circle
Of green pines, red with old gold,
Transfiguration of the king of day.
...
Search, search for them:
In the insomnia of forgotten conduits
In gutters blocked by the muteness of litter.
Not far from the pools incapable of retaining a cloud,
...
My roe deer, dear friend,
My white roe deer.
The wolves slew her
...