A ship sank in the raging storms of my conscience

Carrying cargoes of burning suns

The wreckage reached far far shores

Time gazes at the setting constellations

Yawning wide like the pacific sea;

The sky passed a restless night

Disturbed by hurricane of stars,

I was searching with flaming eyes

In the scattered limbs of my verse

Scraps of blue skies

Crammed with ruins of galaxies;

Echoes of my own voice attack me

Shouting that the colors swallowed

By last night, have not yet risen;

The restless sinews are rocking

With rage like rough seas;

In terror

My poem looked at me

And trembled—