![]() The first time you saw her, you were a sailor eking out a life in squalor, his only possessions hunger and dreams to fight for, and hoping against hope for a wife to warm his nights.Īs he stood there thinking, the sea leapt before his eyes in its infinite grandeur. Yet each of you settled in the bleeding of the other, a homeland rearranging its face. You weren’t a romantic hero who won the hearts of the neighborhood beauties. She sleeps like a wound lodged in your joints, which are branded with the scars of imprisonment. Can you see her? Your wife, whose features you are now delineating so you can remember clearly. Inside her eyelids she drew him as an ideal beauty despite the stench of blood exuded by his briny limbs. She rested her eyes over his and collapsed to settle in his body. ![]() ![]() Yet the homeland, the dream, became a song burning with passion in head and heart. Knock!Īt their first reunion, every barrier and limit melted away. Everything is just the way you left it when you were dragged from this world. All that matters is that he’s home at last, and his eyes have embraced the sea after an arduous journey of which he recollects little, and that took up two ages of his life. Wouldn’t it have been better to take the short-cuts? The paths were so exhausting, and the days were so hard! Was it merely deception or something more?
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