the olivemongers denied haggling over universes.

then the oranges nominated themselves.

with that they merely concealed a bitter youth.

noteworthy the fishiness of some stands.

astonished were many sea-dwellers having reached a Mont Blanc.

their coldness spoke French to us-misleadingly.

after we'd broken through the butcher's barricades,

we had a rest on the round of the melons. for a tip's worth

there were always flowers of misfortune.

Translated by JD Schneider