The sky is good, but water is its essence,
Its depth, bubbles, immersions and waves,
Likewise foam from the sea by Cyprus,
Where out of the shell arises Venus.

You swim, wash and lave hands,
You gently caress and sink down,
You moor the vessels of Columbus
To the unknown known lands.

You stand before the moveable bridges
In Malmo, Copenhagen, London,
You cry out in these drizzling rains,
Your teeth chatter with nasty cold.

Your tongue stays wet in your mouth
Always, while you endure the vital chaos
It dries up when the last day ends,
Once and for all is pressed to the bottom.

2009