(no subject)
The Dry Tongue
Pierre Reverdy
-translated by Kenneth Rexroth
There is a nail
Holding up the slope
The bright tatter of twisting wind blows and anyone
who understands
The whole road is naked
the pavement the sidewalks the distance the railings are
white
Not a drop of rain
Not a leaf of a tree
Not the shadow of a garment
I wait
the station is a long way off
The river still flows as you go up along the embankments
the earth is dried out
everything naked and white
With only the movement of a clock out of order
the noise of the train passed
I wait