THE WANDERING BIRDS

It was in the last ashen-gray days of autumn, in the solitary archipelagoes of the south.

I was with the silent fishermen, who in the brief twilight raise their patched and transparent sails.

We worked in silence, for the evening was descending upon us and upon the surging waters.

Clouds of purple, like great fishes, passed under the keel of our vessel.

Clouds of purple flew over our heads.

And the swelling sails of the bark were like the wings of a great and tranquil bird that crossed noiselessly the red twilight.

I was with the taciturn fishermen, who voyage in the night and keep watch over the dreams of the sea.

On the distant southern horizon, hazy and lilac-colored, someone descried a flock of birds.

We were moving toward them and they were coming toward us.

When they began to cross over our masts, we heard their cries, and saw their brilliant eyes which in passing cast a hurried glance on us.

Rythmically they flew and flew, one behind the other, fleeing from the winter, toward the seas and lands of the north.

In their interminable flight, giving forth their short, harsh cries, they stretched in a sonorous arc from one horizon to the other.

Insensibly the coming night was making as one the sea, the sky, the ship, and ourselves.

Lost in the darkness, we heard the cry of the invisible wandering birds.

No longer did any one of them see its companion; none of them could distinguish anything in the fathomless air.

Leaves at the mercy of the wind, the night would disperse them.

But no; the night, which brings all things to a formless blackness, had no power over them.

The unwearied birds flew on, singing; and, if their flight carried them far, their song kept them united.

During the whole of the cold, long, autumn night, passed this endless flock of sea birds.

Meanwhile, on board the ship, like birds astray, the hearts of the fishermen fluttered within them with inuietude and longing.

Trembling unconsciously, agitated by fever, and knowing my duty toward my taciturn companions, I stood on deck and joined my voice to the choir of the wayfaring birds.