My window, window open wide, toward the east, window that descend e with the tide down to the level of the sea...

Your cross-shaped
grills pass through my dreams,
through the miracle moon and
I behold the naked bathers
through an incomprehensible
clarity...

Window through which I watch,
night after night,
a ship that goes sailing,
with neither direction nor
destiny,
no flag,
no captain...

Like a country without
leadership.

My window,
window open wide,
toward the world,
your cross-shaped bars
pass through my hands,
yielding their signs to the 
wind...