A bud from the sea has reached my feet.
Unexpectedly
It sprouted from the womb of a wave
With its body of sobings and murmurs
As if it were truly a life.
Such pure vapor,
Such seething milk,
Crowned its hurried existence
So its spark of water left an opening
Not even to memory.
I have hardly been able to keep an instant
Its time of dying,
Its swift birth to death.
And maybe the whole soul of an island,
More than an obsession of rocks standing fast,
Is a bud of binding sea.