On the secret seashore
white like a pigeon
we thirsted at noon;
but the water was brackish.
It trembled so, the wind set it sailing
it trembled so, how could it not yield to the wind
We were happy all that morning
Ο God how happy.
First the stones the leaves and the flowers shone
and then the sun
Bend if you can to the dark sea forgetting
the flute's sound on naked feet
that trod your sleep in the other, the sunken life.
In the sea caves
there's a thirst there's a love
there's an ecstasy
all hard like shells
Just a little more
And we shall see the almond trees in blossom
The marbles shining in the sun
The sea, the curling waves.
All morning long we looked around the citadel*
starting from the shaded side, there where the sea,
green and without luster—breast of a slain peacock—
received us like time without an opening in it.
How can you gather together
the thousand fragments
of each person?
What's wrong with the rudder?