Back to Firpo - English translations

The ship that lies
on its side, on the
beach, on the
carefully counted
grains of sand -
Oh how it cries
because it has found
itself to be
a wreck.
So we are warned
that if our painting
isn't to drown
the eye must learn
how to turn
from geometry
to arithmetic.

This transformation
casts a long
shadow upon
the straight line -
that has been used
too much and should
be allowed to rest
although it remains
the foundation
of the work begun
to open the narrow
door upon
the turning of
the One That Turns
and find again
the tension, the pain
we love to love
the rhythm that moves
in a circle only
the spirit can see
and not the flesh
and brings to an end
the endless work
as easily
as the sea extends
over the sand
from the morning to
the moment when
the light fades
and the shadows spread

                                              Next poem - this unforeseeable storm