You hear the night glide across the snow
And through the fog sounded voices
I lit my cigar at a glance
Every time I open my lips
I flood the void with clouds
In the harbor
The masts are full of nests.
And the wind
groans in the birds' wings
THE WAVES ROCK THE DEAD SHIP
Whistling on the shore I
Look at the star that glows between my fingers
Vicente Huidobro (1893 - 1948) Chile
Translated by Johannes Beilharz
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