Exhortation to the Village (8)

Tomorrow the straitened wars
In darkness, suddenly,
the crates of fruit terrify
After two streets of grief
I know
and treacherous paths toward the lord
I know water before it is sullied,
cheapened by carefree mammals everyday
Piece by piece
I know despair in the form of a goat
I know the leavings of a homeless dove
before the horizon has had its fill
You believe in the sea
We preserve the story in salt
I believe in the sun and a split head
in wearing camouflage at a time of peace
In the caress of your hand, a soprano,
an aerial quivering on the roof of the village