`

The Camels

The camels are coming rhythmically
from the desert,
with the wooden bells,
their nonchalant gait.
The camels are leaving for the desert
weighed down with sacks,
obedient,
unsuspecting –
no other desert
have they ever imagined.

`

*

The Elephant’s Death

With his famous ivory tusks
now decayed,
with his slothful,
bulky stride,
the old elephant passed
into solitude.
Calmly,
in sober silence,
he looks among the skeletons
for his turn
to be placed
in the unavoidable.
One wonders
whether he ever knew
he would die
all alone.

`

*

Seabirds

I didnʼt get to learn their names
so I call them
seabirds,
afternoon love
when they return,
morning nostalgia
when they leave,
as orderly as always
in the shapes of the horizon
they move and return
rhythmically automatic.

`

*

The Maimed Dog

Then at a provincial railway station
I came across
a maimed dog,
both its front legs missing,
barking, barking,
struggling to straighten up,
doing its utmost to rise, barking,
half its muzzle trailing on the ground –
and then I wasnʼt surprised,
on hearing the stature of this life.