Love, love, the clouds went up the tower of the sky
like triumphant washerwomen, and it all
glowed in blue, all like a single star,
the sea, the ship, the day were all exiled together.
Come see the cherries of the water in the weather,
the round key to the universe, which is so quick:
come touch the fire of this momentary blue,
before its petals wither.
There’s nothing here but light, quantities, clusters,
space opened by the graces of the wind
till it gives up the final secret of the foam.
Among so many blues-heavenly blues, sunken blues-
our eyes are a little confused: they can hardly divine
the powers of the air, the keys to the secrets in the sea.