Cel-lingvo: Angla
In my youth I sailed
along the Dalmatian shores. Small islands
would rise from the waves, where infrequently
a bird would pause, intent on prey,
covered with seaweed, slippery, in the sunlight
beautiful as emeralds. When the high
tide and the night extinguished them, sails
slipped leeward to deep waters
to escape their treachery. Today I am the king
of no man's land. The port
lights up its lights for the others, for me, to the open sea
drives still the unconquered spirit,
and a sorrowful love for all life.
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- 16 Oktobro 2009 18:35