Open sea
For sailing I took with me
soft cloths in different colours
to wipe the salt
off and from under my
dried-up, cracked, water-hungry skin;
and binoculars, for I have always enjoyed
warching phenomena capriciously
their visage and size
vanishing before my eyes
unnaturally deep or shallow
with a right to choice;
and paper, for the blood I spit
for taking notes prematurely
about the dance of fish and roe
an anthropomorphous dance
for corresponding with ideologies
on wich I set my seal
as on someone else's experience
forgotten property
or perhaps
for divining what lies ahead, agreeably
but never faithfully to my intention
my hope-for-hope's-sake;
and a dream, to assemble
longins and climates as non-identical
as people
to look at images and wake up
to turn into images
because not even yours, sea,
is sufficient for me
to understand myself
to come out into the open.
Translated by A. Osers
