THE TREE TRUNK AND I
Seated on a rock
stone cold as my soul,
I contemplate with sadness
the dusk of the day,
the night in its struggle against the sun.
A few meters from me
lies a fallen tree trunk
torn out by its roots,
a captive of these black sands,
a prisoner of this jail-like beach..
The sea is in love with
this dark trunk
with its dry fragrance,
with its dry branches, with its root
open in its surrender to the world.
It lets itself be caressed
by the salty waves,
in a certain way,
I am the trunk,
she is the sea.
Translation by:
Monique James & Belkis Possamai