Page 102 - MIL-OSC
P. 102
to my father
More and more you speak of the sea
of the drowned thrown up unto the shore
of unfinished voyages.
On your mind you have the songs of the siren and the raft of Odysseus
on which I now drift.
On and on you talk of storms of waves with human faces of rocks,
on which the wind dies.
The sleeplessness of a lighthouse in your outstretched hands.
- 100 -
translated by Elżbieta Domurat
