“The Dream” (English translation)

I dreamed I was on a strange shore that was

beaten to a blush by sun and wind,

            and in this invention of

loneliness was I barely discernible

on a beach so indifferent to

me

and to the sun

and to the wind.

 

It was in a grey hour

            whose moment marked itself

against my profile in opposition to the passing

of time;

 

I don’t know anymore

precisely when I realized that

            my shadow had been missing

but as I felt with my hand

the sand was cold at her last sojourn.

 

All hope then crumbled into

            grains of quicksand

into which my soul, heavy with

passion slipped away,

            and I understood how small is

man

and how great is silence when you

            can hear the rattling of your own bones.

 

            I awoke, finally, swaddled in a

shroud woven as though by a

merciful spider, from the spindle of

            forgetting

conscious with every blink of my eyes

that burned with sleep

and wind

and sun that any movement would collapse me

            into salt and ash.

I felt my frail breaths through the

            tightening and loosening of the

cloth that began to tear from this profound release;

 

            I sensed myself so close against the

            breast of neant that the space I began to fill

  with my pathetic, withered form

was not part of the molecular plane of time’s movement.

I was embraced and yet not integrated

in this place damned by

the sun and

the wind

and

            my soul sequestered in this forgotten beach.

Where once I was spiteful of tears that

            fell as though for no reason,

where I was once spiteful of all the love

that was contiguous with my body and being when I

            loved you,

            I am now spiteful of this forsaken spot

that mocks me with the contradiction of my

 

existence.

           

            I fell asleep.

I fell asleep without struggle or remorse,

rocked by my bones that beat like the

            sound of the toacă towards midnight,

and I dreamed I wrote your name in the sand

 

and the wind slowed,

and the sun left off,

and the swaddling began to melt in

            muscle and meat and nerves upon me like a

            living

            cipher.

The waves approached this strange shore

resurrected by the sun

and the wind,

like regrets,

            and I understood how small is the pain

            of sorrow, and how great

is need, when you can still cry beyond death.

 And it was then I wept a tear—

            a single, hot tear that turned the sand to

a glass bottle where it fell; and into it I poured

the sleep

and the dream

and the death of this

            shore,

this shore so indifferent to me

the sun

and the wind.

 

I hurled it toward the horizon, toward you,

toward the west,

            and the farther the sea carried it, the smaller this

            cursed space became, until my soul

long buried, rose toward the sun.

After, I awoke on a strange shore,

beaten to a blush by

the sun and

the wind,

            and I found your name written in the sand.

I sat down beside it, and fell asleep

and dreamed that you once loved

me.

 the dock and other poems