Poems. - John Charlot

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Poems. - John Charlot

POEMS

John Charlot


SAMOAN

FRENCH

HAWAIIAN

ENGLISH

Ma Vie

À Arraye

Visitation

Lumières des Pays

1/1

L’Océan au Salon

Nostalgie de la Chaire

TABLE OF CONTENTS

He Mele Aloha no Waikāne a me Waiāhole

E Ho‘i Kaho‘olawe ‘Āina Hao

Pōlia

Kei i ka ‘ili wena ‘ilima

He Kanikau no Kane‘eaulani

Mai hopo ‘oe,

No Leiola

No Leiola

He Mele Moho no Neil Abercrombie

Himeni

Aloha Lāna‘i i ka wahine o kai

An Eskimo Sells Bone-Sculpture at a Greenland Airport

Poem Written for Susan Charlot’s Paintings

What Soft Ground Is

American Sāmoa

Two Songs for Guitar

Three Poems for T.

2


SAMOAN


1.

‘O SOLO FOU

Fa‘apei ‘o se aitu,

‘o tolotolo lo’u loto

ma tago lou tino fou

‘i se atigilima mālūlū.

‘I le vā o ou nifo

fā‘aili lau mānava.

Ma‘alili le palapala

‘e lē fa‘alā ai––ō!

2.

‘O le fale afolau lava.

‘E ‘auala ulu ‘i le lagi

lā‘au ma le Sāmoa.

Tātou te nonofo ‘i lalo.

‘I le ataata fa‘aalofi

‘e vala‘au le mālamalama

‘i le isi mālamalama.

‘O le loto te vaveao.

3.

‘O pa‘a ‘e eva ma ona mata.

Sa toloa leva lona paopao ‘i uta.

‘Ua lē mānaia le ‘auivi ‘i i‘a.

Na ‘o ia lona lava.

‘E lē gata ‘i le ‘amu.

‘O lo‘o agi ‘i luga ‘o galu.

‘O le sami ‘ua lē iloa ‘o ia.

‘Ua avea ma se sami.

4


1.

NEW SONGS

Like a ghost

My desire steals out

and touches your new body

with a cold fingernail.

In the space between your teeth

your breath whistles.

The unsunned mud

is cold.

2.

A true long house.

The breadfruit columns a pathway

to a wooden and Samoan sky.

We sit below.

In the ritual circle of reflections

light speaks

to light.

The soul dawns.

3.

Crabs wander with his eyes.

His canoe has long been drawn on land.

His bones attract no fish.

He is alone.

Coral does not hold him.

Waves blow above.

The sea has forgotten him.

He has become some sea.

5


FRENCH


MA VIE

Let petits plombs que je tire sur les merles déchirent mes fleurs.

7


À ARRAYE

Accroupi sur la voie arrachant la maudite gerbe,

J’envie ces hommes aussi passager que l’herbe.

8


VISITATION

Deviseuse de brouillons de moments,

Verse sur nous un peu de l’eau de voeux,

Patients clients de l’inattendu,

Cherchant des nougats dans la temporelle passoire.

Théologiens de prophéties d’histoire,

Négligents des sables furieux,

Surprend-nous physiques en instance,

Qui attendent toujours l’orgasme du coucou.

9


I.

CASTLE BEACH

Les enfants bruns sablent l’écume de rose.

Le soleil ne sait dire ce qui brille le plus,

Ni la nuit si je veux partir.

LUMIÈRES DES PAYS

Sur le haut de la colline, les bananes flairent.

Les feuilles de hala dardent comme des coups de brosse.

Les mouillures s’y composent.

Des mythologies obscurent la noire source

Dont les terminaisons douces et larges arrosent

Les brisants blancs qui les éclairent.

La lune parait avant que le jour ne close.

Dans les champs phosphores que s’étalent sur toute frontière,

Les enfants doux-amers noircissent.

10


II.

PROMENADE EN BAVIÈRE

La bière épaisse me rend plus fatidique encore et lourd.

Mes confrères rēvent sonores dans les herbes polyformes

Et monotones qui les couvrent.

Les vents doux des montagnes ont suivi les lentes

Ondulations des prés. Les chemises blanches ouvertes

Tremblent plus vite qu’ils ne respirent.

Les charrues de bois ont enfoui les mammouths et les germanes,

Auxquels le ciel égal et solide met une dure borne.

Mes pages là-devant font jaunes.

Au-dessus de la page tachetée de notes se fraye notre mince texte.

Nos chansons de marche sont vieilles, mais l’ensemble manque de tact,

La clef de Fa à mi-vitesse.

11


III.

L’AURORE BORÉALE À ST. JOHN’S, MINNESOTA

Au coin sinistre et bas de ce ciel mécanique du Nord

Flotte sans bouger, mièvre et acolore, une mince lueur.

Le spectacle se prépare.

Des rayons rigides comme des os s’en lancent vers nous,

Et tournant presque invisiblement, laissent des taches et des trous.

Les mèches se couvre de cette boue.

Les taches solidifiées émettent de propres raies

Et roulent en place à leur tour pour faire cette poussière

Que mouillent les grêlons de sueur

Tombant d’une tringle droite mais aussi large que l’horizon.

Nous devinons le rideau ultime dont masque le rebours

Une scène plus froide qu’aucune encore.

12


1/1

L’oeil intense, l’oeil blessé

Les toros bouclés valent les moutons sans leurs ombres déprimées

Mes cheveux ne se doivent qu’aux chanps lisses des comètes

Mais mēme les astres naissent d’une mer

Qu’est-ce que je ne peux faire pour rejoindres mes idées

La souffrance me grappe au rocher testiculaire

L’espoir me promet des raçines traitresses

Le génie ne peut pas me suffire

Je joue oui je joue seule

Mes yeux enfantent pour d’autres

Que ces univers sont grotesques en leur synthèse

Loin de toute composition

Une femme nue invente des étoiles

Pour couvrir les yeux de son amant

Pour M. à l’occasion de son exposition, 9 Mars 1971

13


L’OCÉAN AU SALON

Les vagues s’élèvent, frémissent, et plongent comme des plumes d’autruche.

Elles laissent voler derrière leurs voiles blanches.

L’eau est de satin à bordures de dentelles.

Son émotion relève sa moire.

Les serviteurs, discrets quoique nus,

se brûlent les doigts en lui épilant les immondices.

Ils sont gentils comme nous l’étions.

Des clous de laine les fixent entre le piano et la croix.

Un large vase de Chine empiédestale une rose.

Une femme en noir s’en va dans le scandale.

Les vautours missionaires se plaisent à faire l’époux.

Un mariage se consomme au claquement des drapeaux.

Pour John Dominis Holt à l’occasion de la présentation

de sa pièce de théâtre sur la reine Lili‘uokalani.

14


NOSTALGIE DE LA CHAIRE

Orgue, cordes, ombre

m’émeut, tombe de tympan.

Un pas en arrière pour nous deux, Jésus,

englouti dans le vagin célèste.

Une papeterie de surplis

dont la parole s’est fait mots.

15


HAWAIIAN


HE MELE ALOHA NO WAIKĀNE A ME WAIĀHOLE

Music by Kane‘eaulani Aluli. Words by John Charlot.

Pulupē au lā i ka wai ola,

Olioli mai lā he leo mamao.

Mao ‘ole ka ‘ūlāleo kahiko.

Hikihiki mau lā i ka wā ā pau.

Lino nō ka ‘ili i ka lewa.

Na wai e nalu iho?

Lanalana nā aka o nā mauna.

He maunu kōnane iā māua.

Nehenehe ka waili‘u ‘ale‘ale

I ka monimoni a nā āholehole.

Halia mai lā he makani namu.

Muia nā ‘i‘ini minamina.

‘Auhea ‘oe, pehea ka pakele?

Lele ‘ē i ke aka a ka lewa.

Lino nō ke aka a ka lewa.

Na wai e nalu iho?

Pulupē au lā i ka wai ola,

Olioli mai lā he leo mamao.

Mao ‘ole ka ‘ūlāleo kahiko.

Hikihiki mau lā i ka wā ā pau.

17


A SONG OF ALOHA FOR WAIKĀNE AND WAIĀHOLE

While I was drenched in the water of life (of Kāne),

A distant voice chanted to me.

The ancient spirit voice will not clear away.

It comes to me ceaselessly.

The surface of sea and skin is shiny with the sky.

Who will plunge in thought?

The reflections of the mountains are floating,

A shining bait for the two of us.

The wavy mirage rustles

With the continual gulping of the young āhole fish.

An unintelligible wind is carried towards us.

Regretful yearnings gather and clash.

Listen to me! How to escape?

Leap off to the reflection of the sky.

Shiny indeed is the reflection of the sky.

Who will plunge in thought?

While I was drenched in the water of life,

A distant voice chanted to me.

The ancient spirit voice will not clear away.

It comes to me ceaselessly.

copyright 1975, 1976, 1977 John Charlot

18


E HO‘I KAHO‘OLAWE ‘ĀINA HAO

Music by Kane‘eaulani Aluli. Words by John Charlot.

Kū kōlū

Mai loko ‘ino o nā ho‘omalau.

Kū kōlū

Ma ia moku heiau.

E‘e mai

Nā me‘e u‘i o ka ‘āina

Pae mai

I nā pōhaku i haumia.

Kanikau

No nā lawai‘a i moana mamao.

Kanikau

No ia ‘āina hao.

E ō mai,

E nā luna.

E ō mai,

E nā kulaīwi.

RETURN KAHO‘OLAWE, STOLEN LAND OF IRON

The bombs fall. Stop the bombing

That comes from irreverent hearts.

The bombs fall. Stop the bombing

On that island of broken heiau.

They embark,

The youthful heroes of the land.

They land

On the desecrated stones.

Sing a dirge

For the fisherman in distant seas.

Sing a dirge

For this stolen land of iron.

Respond,

You rulers.

Respond,

You lands of our bones.

copyright 1976, 1977 John Charlot

20


PŌLIA

Hana no‘eau ke aloha

Hana aloha ka no‘eau.

Kohi ke aheahe kono kilohana.

Nani ka nohona keha i ka hea.

Holahia ka moana i mua o ke alo,

e ku‘u hoa ‘alo kai a lewa.

‘Ōlelo hoene ‘oe mai ko loko māla‘e.

Hani mai nā manamana ani kuahiwi.

Honi ona ‘oe i ka hā honua lipo,

e ka wahine maoli iwi hilo hilo.

‘A‘oe loko, ‘a‘oe waho, ‘elua ‘ole ‘o kāua

i ke kāhuli ‘ia ‘ana a kaukāhi o ke ao.

I ka lahalaha ‘ana a ka pohu ‘olu ‘auina lā

e kāhea ana ka ‘iwa kaha nopunopu kai.

Ma‘ule kona makamaka, e maha wale ana nō.

E luana ke one i ka hamo hu‘a holo hene.

Kani mai nā kapua‘i a ke kupa ho‘i hana pau.

Mai ka ‘elelani po‘i ka pō o ka ‘oia‘i‘o.

Piha ka pō kapa ‘ele‘ele no kāua.

Kū‘ami‘ami nā lā a nā mahina

e hala ana nā manawa kau a kau.

Holo hohonu nā au ma ‘ō a ‘ō

a nāueue ka papa ‘elemoe lilo.

Lilo i ka niuhi ke ‘au māhole ‘ole

i nā hālelo ulu ‘o‘e ko‘a.

E au mai nei ka ‘onaulu auwāea

e ha‘ukeke ke kāhekaheka.

Hāmau kāua i ke kuluaumoe

kiu ‘ia e na hōkū makauli‘i.

E pō‘ai ‘o lākou kūlewalewa

i ke kikowaena nei no ka huli lani.

Huli ko ‘ōnohi i ka moemoeā.

Pehea ko mana‘olana? Pehea ko paulele?

Hia‘ā i ka pō kulu wana.

Ala ana au hahana i ko alo.

Ili loloa ko lauoho i luna o`u.

‘Imo ‘ole ko maka la‘a uli.

Pā kokoke nā kūkulu o ka lani

lipolipo, panopano, kanokano,

loli i kukuna o ka lā.

22


LET IT BE NIGHT

Love is a work of wisdom.

Wisdom is a work of love.

The breeze detains us, inviting us to gaze.

How beautiful this setting high in the calling mist.

The broad expanse of sea and plain is spread before our faces,

O my companion facing struggles with sea and sky.

You speak soft sounding from your clear insides.

Your fingers graze me like the cool, gesturing mountain wind.

You breathe fragrant kisses with the breath of the deep moist earth.

O realest native woman entwined with me here.

There is no inside, no outside, we are not two

in this turning into oneness of the world.

In the spreading of the cool stillness of the descending sun,

the man-o’-war calls as it soars above the softly surging sea.

His companion is weary and only wants to rest.

The sand luxuriates in the caress of the foam running on its slopes.

The footsteps of the local sound as he returns from work.

From the east pounces the night of truth.

The night is full, a black cloak for us both.

The suns and moons gyrate

as the respiring moments pass season by season.

The currents flow deep there and there

till the foundation layer of the far south moves.

The great shark gets to swim without scraping

in the caves of groves of jagged coral.

When the broad wave from distant time and space flows hither,

the tidal pools of coral shake.

We quieten in the deep night dripping sleep,

spied on by the envious stars.

They circle unstable

around this very center of the turning sky.

Your eyeball turns in your desiring dream.

How can you hope? How can you trust?

Sleepless in the night drizzling starlight.

I awaken warm toward your face.

Your hair descends long upon me.

Unblinking your eye of sacred dark.

The columns of the firmament touch me near,

deepest dark, shining dark, stiff dark,

turning into rays of the rising sun.

23


KEI I KA ‘ILI WENA ‘ILIMA

Kei i ka ‘ili wena ‘ilima

Ka wahine hanu maile.

Kolopua i ke kaiue

Ke kialoa lanaau.

E ao i puleileho

o mimiki ke kai a Pele!

E ‘ami oli ola ke ōla‘i

i ka iho ‘ana iho o ka uila.

Proud of her skin gleaming with `ilima,

The woman breathes the maile.

Floating scent-like over the rise and fall,

The slim canoe moves with the current.

But watch for storm

or you’ll be sucked out before the wave of Pele!

The earthquake gyrates singing and alive

with the lightning coming down and down again.

24


19 Iulai, MH 1976

HUI

Hao mai ka makani.

Hū mai ke aloha.

Auwē ka pōki‘i!

‘Upu ka ‘eha.

Hali‘a mai ka leo kūli‘u,

ka ‘ili hinu ‘ele hiwa.

Kahi nā manamana lima

i ka lauoho ‘ele pō.

Lilo ‘oe i wailele,

i lau lawe makani.

Nalu ‘oe i ka lewa

a nalo i ka launahele.

E ho‘omaha ‘oe i ka ‘olu.

Ho‘omaka hou ka mele manu.

E lohe ‘oe i ke oli komo

hio iho i nā iwi koa.

E ō mai nei, e ku‘u hoa palo.

Eia nō ko kītā mātautau!

Make ‘ē nā keiki i ka hula

onaona i nā pua haku ‘oe.

HE KANIKAU NO KANE‘EAULANI

25


July 19, 1976

CHORUS

A SONG OF MOURNING FOR KANE‘EAULANI

The wind howls.

Love wells up.

Alas the little one!

The hurt comes back.

Your deep penetrating voice comes to my mind,

the shiny, dark skin,

the long fingers combing

in the night-black hair.

You have turned into a waterfall,

into a leaf taken by the wind.

You ponder space

and disappear in the forest leaves.

Rest now in the coolness.

The song of the birds begins again.

Listen to the chant of invitation

whistling through the ancient warriors’ bones.

Answer me, my companion in inspiration.

Here is your guitar all ready.

The children feel a strange desire to dance,

fragrant with the flowers you have plaited and composed.

26


MAI HOPO ‘OE

Mai hopo ‘oe,

e ku‘u ipo.

Pono e noho

ou akua ‘elua.

Ua pono ia.

‘A‘ohe mea ‘ē.

‘Elua nō ke ‘ano

o ko kino aloha.

‘Elua lima nou.

‘Elua wāwae.

‘Elua lehelehe.

‘Elua pepeiao.

No ke aha nō

Ko hopo loa.

Pono lua ‘oe.

‘Elua ‘o kāua.

31


NO LEIOLA

E ku‘u hoa

ku‘u hoa o nā pali ulipō

ku‘u hoa o nā kula pā ka lā

Aloha nō ‘oe.

E hele ana ‘oe me ō e aloha

hū a pau ‘ole mai ka loko nei.

E huli iki ‘oe ma kou ala hula

e aloha mai.

Ku‘u hoa i ke kau o ke kanikau,

e kauaheahe pono i ke ola.

No ke ola nō ‘oe, ‘ae, no ke ola.

‘O kou inoa ia–– e ō mai!

NO LEIOLA

Hana no‘eau ke aloha.

Hana aloha ka no‘eau

Honi kāua i ka pua ola

Pālua ‘ia anei ke ‘ala?

He ala loa no kāua ē ––

Pehea lā nā mea li‘ili‘i?

Hō‘ika ‘ia ‘oe ka loko

e mana loa ko kāua hā.

32


Hui:

HE MELE MOHO NO NEIL ABERCROMBIE

Kaulana ‘o Neil i ke koa,

Ka ‘elele o ka ‘oia‘i‘o.

I.

Ke ua a kahe nā wai,

pi‘o ke ānuenue.

E hao ana nā makani ‘ino,

‘alo‘alo kuāua no kuahiwi.

II.

‘O kona kānāwai ‘o ke aloha

i nā pua lili‘i pale ‘ole.

‘O ia nō ke kumu i ka pono

i ke aupuni a i ke kulanui.

III.

He wa‘a nahā ‘ole kona

ke ko‘okā ka ho‘owalewale.

Minamina ‘ole i kālā

kēia kama aloha ‘āina.

IV.

E ho‘omaha i ka malu o Mānoa,

e ka ‘elele na‘auao.

Nui ka wela o ka lā

ma ke ala o ko ‘imi loa.

1976

33


Chorus

A CAMPAIGN SONG FOR NEIL ABERCROMBIE

Famous is Neil for his courage,

the delegate of truth.

I.

When it rains so hard the waters flow,

the rainbow arches.

When evil winds blow,

he dodges the spear-like mountain showers.

II.

His rule is aloha

for the small defenseless flowers.

He is the teacher of the right

to the government and the university.

III.

His is a boat that does not break apart

when buffeted by temptation.

He does not regret money,

this child who loves and is loved by the land.

IV.

Rest in the shade of Mānoa,

enlightened delegate.

Great is the heat of the sun

on the path of your great search.

34


A Campaign Song for Neil Abercrombie was written in 1976 for his election as

representative of Mānoa Valley, Honolulu. The song is based on proverbs and the most

famous political songs, Kaulana nā Pua and Kamuela King, and uses the ambiguity

and symbolism typical of Hawaiian poetry.

Chorus: Kaulana recalls Kaulana nā pua… and other songs. The word is standard in

songs and in conventional introductions for stories. ‘Elele ‘delegate’ contrasts with the

evil ones in Kaulana nā Pua.

I. Heavy rain and storm can mean troubles or battles. The rainbow is a sign of the

presence of chiefs. The last line is based on a proverb used of brave warriors.

II. Kānāwai is a term for rule or law. Pua stands for children. Line three refers to

Abercrombie’s activity as a teacher, which he now extends to the political realm.

III. The first two lines are based on a proverb whose sexual significance is extended to

Abercrombie’s incorruptibility. The second two lines are based on Kaulana nā Pua.

IV. A reference to the place represented by Abercrombie. The place itself appreciates his

work. The last two lines play on Hawaiian symbolism that is the reverse of Western:

cool is good and heat is bad. He will meet many obstacles in his career. Ka ‘imi loa is a

central Hawaiian concept: Hawaiian culture is unified, not in a static system, but in the

movement of search.

35


HIMENI

Kono ke kahuna pule

iā Iesu e hālāwai,

i loko o kona hale

e noho ‘ai.

Akā ‘a‘ohe wai ‘olu.

‘A‘ohe āna honi mai.

‘A‘ohe poni ‘ala ia

i ke po‘o a wāwae.

Lawe ka wahine hala

i ka ipu alabata.

Ku‘u iho ka lauoho

me nā waimaka.

Ho‘opulu i wai ‘olu.

Holoi me ka honi mai.

Poni ‘ala ka wahine

i ke po‘o a wāwae.

Mana‘o ‘ino ke kahuna:

“‘Ike ‘ole ke kāula

he wahine hewa ia.”

A hua Iesū:

“E! ‘A‘ohe ou wai ‘olu,

‘a‘ole ‘oe i honi mai.

‘A‘ole i poni ‘ala ‘oe

i ke po‘o a wāwae.

Pono ka wahine hewa.

Kala kāna hala a pau.

No kona aloha nui

e ola mau!”

Written for a composer who wanted a hymn.

Ho‘opulu i wai ‘olu.

Holoi me ka honi mai.

Poni ‘ala ka wahine

i ke po‘o a wāwae.

36


ALOHA LĀNA‘I I KA WAHINE O KAI

Aloha Lāna‘i i ka wahine o kai

Ha‘aha‘a i ke alo o Pu‘upehe lā

Lana ka lima me Kaho‘olawe lā

I ka ‘ālohilohi o nā pae ‘ōpua i ke kai

Aloha Lāna‘i i ka wahine o kai.

Aloha Lāna‘i i ka wahine o uka

Oli aku i ke alo o Lāna‘i Hale lā

Ku‘i ka lono i ka hono moku lā

A kupu a lau, a puka a hua i ka uka

Aloha Lāna‘i i ka wahine o uka.

He mele mahalo no ka hālau o Lāna‘i

Lāna‘i is beloved in the woman of the sea

Dancing low before the face of Pu‘upehe

Her arm floating like Kaho‘olawe

In the shining of the cloud banks on the sea.

Lāna‘i is beloved in the woman of the sea.

Lāna‘i is beloved in the woman of the mountains

Chanting out before the face of Lāna‘i Hale.

The sound is heard around the island circle,

and plants sprout and leaf and burgeon and fruit upon the mountains.

Lāna‘i is beloved in the woman of the mountains.

A song of thanks and appreciation for the hālau of Lāna‘i

37


ENGLISH


AN ESKIMO SELLS BONE-SCULPTURE AT A

GREENLAND AIRPORT

If you had only seen what I have seen.

The Eskimo watched the airplane spray the snow,

The tourists exit blinking on the scene

And stamping ask their maps where they were now.

The walrus’ ghost swims on within its bones,

Which bear strong gods between my aching hands.

The seal with ears, or man with flippers, loans

The sacred passage through inhuman lands.

I would have told you but you could not listen.

Come with me now onto the mapless plain

Where the walrus flees across the ice that glistens

Beyond horizons limiting our pain.

I go so far. There is no plane that flies

Further than the snow before my eyes.

39


POEM WRITTEN FOR SUSAN CHARLOT’S PAINTINGS

The finger on the orphan’s lips

protects the widow’s dream.

From edges of the black eclipse

the locks of sunshine stream.

The liquefaction of all things

into this ether moves

that we can beat with shadowed wings

and prance upon with hooves.

The orphan scratched into the dirt

and wondered which would last:

the line, the finger, or the hurt.

His father’s umbra passed.

40


I seat you on the bed and kneel

The room divides in darks and lights

The sunlight printed on the shade

softens our shadows

Lips move across your skin

luminous as the moon is luminous

You’ll laugh

I’ve always feared you loved my shadow

Ears ring with your Renaissance fingers

My hand on your skin seems old

Raise the shade now all is dark

Press blind

WHAT SOFT GROUND IS

41


AMERICAN SĀMOA

The town crazy man approached me, his palm extended with two dimes. I reached for

them. His humor was instantaneous. He avoids me now.

I mentioned a Samoan book on culture to my chiefly friend.

I

II

“Don’t mind what he says.” He calculated in his head. “He’s only fourteen generations.”

“You’re putting on weight.”

“I wasn’t always so pretty.”

III

42


I.

TWO SONGS FOR GUITAR

Your body is not cold though you may think it so.

As emerald clouds fade into deepest blue,

Your hair flows orange on this amber snow

And all the tracks that led us where we knew

Smoothen to music from our world below.

II.

Your tears are not in vain though you may think them so.

They fall like petals on this carpet ground,

Swirl iridescent in the winds that blow

Through strings of harpists leaving their own sound

To touch with gentler fingers into our new woe.

43


I.

THREE POEMS FOR T.

The Mistress of Knots

At first I thought it was your skillful fingers.

Then I saw you didn’t touch the rope.

Now I watch your eyes as the rope straightens.

I suspect you can do it around corners.

II.

Deaf men feel music the way I feel your skin,

Gathered into it unknowing but aware.

Only my palms become miraculous.

My mouth opens to what I almost hear.

III.

In my arms you become a river

An animal of a river

The bed that hugs the water

A mouth on the sea.

You form the four posts of the first house.

I thatch you, cover your sides,

Laying the foundation.

Earthquakes will join us.

I come through you again discovering,

Recovering my first cry,

That first helplessness

That forms its world forever.

44

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