From far off it looks like a black stain, but it's a
ship. Below it the stones piled up against its
hull seem like waves. But they are not waves,
they are only stones and they cry out. The
breakers cry out as they rear up. The sun also is
sinking and coloured plastic flowers like tiny
suns. Here is the sea of the desert, the sea of
stones of the desert boiling in front of Chile.

Here are the little flowers and the gangrenous
coasts of the dry empty sea.

Mireya gives a name to each one of these
flowers. Against the ship they look like tiny
suns saying goodbye to it.

Translated by William Rowe