The virgin, the enduring, and the beautiful now

Will tear us with a blow of a drunken wing

This forgotten hard lake that haunts under the frost

The transparent glacier of flights that did not escape!

A swan once remembers that he is

Magnificent but has no hope of escaping

Not to have sung the region where to live

When of sterile winter the boredom glittered

All his neck will shake this white agony

By the space imposed on the bird who denies it

But not the horror of the ground where the plumage is taken

Phantom whom in this place its pure brightness assigns,

It stands still in the cold dream of contempt

That the Swan dresses in its useless exile.

03/20/08