Every rainbow drinks water - and fish fly in the wind.
Deep oceans of the world - black hole - dust of thought -
fish slip from our hands - in return for five loaves of breads,
in return for a sorrowful glance pale as a bleached sail.

Fishermen arrive at boats overturned like turtles
who murmur about the old days: plink of water -
damp scent, freckles of salt - hideous jellyfish
stains cover the shore.

The boats are creaking - the wind dries their ribs

and green nets - not trees - sway in the shadows.

Translation: 2002, Kristina Lucenko