Now I fill the petals with yellow rays,
Yellow as the fiery beams sent by the sun.
And my withered hand of sand slowly wakes,
Downing from a long lethargic sleep,
With half my body still not dissolved.

I never left the sea behind; I have the sea here.
I banished the curse from the sea; but I was left without hands.
I scratched chronicles in the sand with bony fingers.

I gather my limbs into sacks in the coarse sand,
Now that the incense has frightened the nights of evil,
I will go to Jesus tomorrow in the Holy Mass…

1991

Translated: John Hodgson