Down below, the endless stones of the desert,
mountains of stones, long escarpments of
stones, infinite stones on the desert like a sea.
The sky above, the blue sky falling. The stones
cry out as they smash into the air, into the sky
that's falling.

The desert cries out. There's a limestone wall
with names. There's a white wall and little
bottles with plastic flowers that cry out as they
bend in the wind.

A little further off there's a ship. No-one would
say there can be a ship in the middle of the
desert. It's a big, rusty ship, lying on the stones.
No-one would say it could be, but it's there.
The same sky that falls on the stones falls on the
ship. All the stones cry out.

They cry out, the Chilean desert cries out.
No-one would say this could be, but they cry out.

Translated by William Rowe