Low paradise   

Gazing in the distance, gazing away
following the trail of the sun
mountains of deep, salted water
binding all shores together
This scalding shade embraces me
not a movement in the air
my muscles are locked, thoughts glued together 
sleeping, eating, sweating, talking, not changing
my position 

I feel lighter and lighter
between boredom, wisdom and torpor
here are Sardinia and Andalusia
Seville, Conil de la Frontera and Africa
getting dimmer and dimmer
Here I retrace my past
and these jumbled shores
pull me down to the deep
Mediterranean

Over the hard crust
swarms a low paradise

Come now, we are staring again
the old horizon fades
the game mesmerizes, the sultry air deceives
touching, seeing, meeting, bartering
then over, to the Middle East
Hypnotic tunes, scent of mint
among stones, pride and desert
Turkey, Athens, Albania, Montenegro slide away
and at the border Istria, closing the ring
And here again I find the present                       
of tormented geographies, but                   
it is part of me
this Mediterranean

Over the hard crust
swarms a low paradise