Women
There were nets thrown
after fishes,
hair combed an hour before morning,
stars were drawn up.
A flock of female arms fluttered over the
rooftops.
The womenīs sleepless lips ran down the
shingle path.
The names of loved ones
were sung on the shore
and the womenīs hearts flung upwards
higher than lighthouses.
Empty hands of loved ones were kissed.
Stardust on the womenīs lips
prophesied the sunīs rising.
translated by Michael Stone
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