One day I tossed into the Ocean
(I don’t recall under what skies)
A kind of offering to the void,
A whole remnant of precious wine…
Who willed your loss, Oh alcohol?
Perhaps the heavens led my hand?
Perhaps my heart’s preoccupation,
Dreaming of blood, spilling wine?
There was a brief effusion of rosy
Smoke, and then the sea became
Transparent, as it was before…
The wine lost… the waves drunk!
I saw extraordinary figures
Leaping across the bitter air…
30 October 1871 – 20 July 1945