THE WINDOW

My window, window
open wide, toward the east,
window that descends with the tide
down to the level of the sea...

Your cross-shaped grills pass
through my dreams, through the miracle the moon
and I behold an incomprehensible clarity...

Window through which I watch,
night after night, a ship that goes
sailing, with neither direction
nor destiny, no flag, no captain...

My window, window
open wide, toward the world,
your cross-shaped bars pass through my hands,
yielding their signs to the wind.