Mirror | rorriM

It was a white ship separating them
The woman was on the deck, and the man on the quay
I still remember the man’s eyes

His long eyelashes were wet
Like knives dirty with blood
The man was sorrowful, the man was ruined
It would take only a touch to make him cry

The man was tired, he was in love
The ship was departing, leaving behind the grief
Why didn’t the quay melt at that moment?
It must be because it was made of stone

Then, a whistle was blown all of a sudden
The white ship got smaller and smaller
There was a man on the quay
Left alone with his terrible loneliness

Sea Nostalgia

Vessels sail along my dreams,
Over the roofs, ships in a feast of color,
And poor me,
Yearning for the sea year in year out,
I gaze and weep.
I recall my first sight of the world
Through a mussel shell I pried open:
The greenest water and the bluest sky
And the rippliest of lump-fish…
My blood still flows salty
Where the oysters slit my skin.
What a madspeed plunge was ours
Into the high seas on the whitest foam!
Foam bears no malice,
Like lips
Whose adultery with men Is no disgrace.

Vessels sail along our dreams
Over the roofs, ships in a feast of color,
And poor me,
Yearning for the sea year in year out.