To a gray island whose trees have been felled

    its birds driven away

How paltry are the domestic fowl

that mistake a hop across a narrow stream

    for flight

    amid their aimless clamor

And how immense is the silence of a seabird spreading its wings without a sound

    above the marshland of suffering

Wave upon wave, rocks twisting into one another

and raining their manes down in tears

small plants replacing towering trees

and an abandoned course replacing the river

*

Alas

The indigo of eyes fading

and yet, like a barren cloud

    unable to rain

Evin, September 29, 1977

Translation assisted by AI