What did you do ? Did your word ever come for your brother of the deep mines, for the grief of the betrayed, did your fiery syllable ever come to plead for yor people and defend them?

The journey's end, the indefinable
air, the moon of crates,
dry moon poured
upon scars,
the torn tunic's calcareous hole,
frozen veins of foliage, the panic
of quartz,
wheat,
the dawn,
keys spread out in secret rocks,
the terrifying line
of the dismembered South,
sulphate asleep in its stature
of long geography,
and turquoise dispositions
rotating round the extinguished light,
the incessantly blossoming pungent bouquet,
the spacious night of density-