The Night in Isla Negra

    Ancient nig

    beat at the walls of my house.

    the sky

    the ocean,

    and sky and s

    in t conflict.

    All nigruggle;

    nobody knohe name

    of t t keeps slowly opening

    like a languid fruit.

    So on t comes to light,

    out of seethe harsh dawn,

    gna by t,

    s clean by t,

    bloodstained in its sea-waser.