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Farewell to the Moon
Farawell to the Moon
It hadn’t yet reached the city’s olive-colored silhouette
when Laura’s lips with those of Filone met,
and no one knows who guided whom
to bathe together in the stone pit behind the cement mill
and later lie close to one another on the steep bank
and ardently drive away gnats say needles words, and suddenly
it emerged from under the row of poplars, from under the roof
of the gas station, from under the sleeping walls
of apartment blocks, and illuminated the wet hair, scattered
clothes and, later, the gap between their bodies
nestling into the hard earth, and rhythmically
glistened through a thread of saliva, arced, coursing,
iridescent glow, hymn, flight, shout, blood, done.
Translated by Małgorzata McElfresh and W. Martin