Should you See Him Walking Alone at Night

Should you see him walking alone at night,

when feline eyes reflect the moon;

should you hear him droning

the inevitable verses

that like chisels carve into his soul;

or if then

you glimpse him laying out his silence

to cover the pupils

of boats that sleep open eyed:

he’d be inventing himself once more

from the crumbs

of a dense and ailing liturgy.

It would be him

on the bridge:

sifting the man of wounds and mud

from the poet seeking a cause

for the moon

for the sea

for the stars

for cats

for his sanctity.

Translated by Patricia Gatt