barred bunker walls lie at the head
of the island impelled the sea laps as it will
long-gone hands have bound single feathers
to fingers thick wires in the stone

after the summer they are going to fly
here you can see some of the roots from below
without dying the coast peels steeply
out of the sand showing a rusty clock

it is wet this time is passing it by later
i found the swan for the feathers
its head was missing only on the body
could the image of its shadow be altered

Translated by Catherine Hales