Far across the waves, the wing of a gull
Ventilates a sea full of impurities –
The insult and darkness of refusal –
I remember it through the navel
Which ties me to the centuries of wrong.
The sea has assembled all their bones
Under the cross of the reefs;
They sleep their black oceanic slumber
In the heavy shroud of the silent deeps.
But I have an eye to pierce the darkness
Better than the fine fingers of sunlight
And an ear which hears the groans
Even the squalls cannot disperse,
An ear which catches the sound of a plunge
The stillest waters cannot cover.
Poem from Poèmes de la mer (1968)
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