You search everywhere for traces of other lives,
of the dreams that made them pulse,
of the gods that calmed their fear,
of the carved movements with which they preserved
that which they thought worthy
of surviving time.

You search for traces of yourself
preserved in the landscape,
but you already know you'll be beaten down
by this tireless wave
and you feel, already serene, how it is defeating you
while your eyes smile at the light
and with your lips you celebrate
grapes and skin.

Translated by Anna Crowe