WOMEN OF THE SEA
The remoteness of the port
It has made me susceptible
My last memory:
Those kisses of yours
They know the Pacific coral.
The current brings
Your green stars,
Which two butterflies
That land in my dreams
Dreamed up by my being.
Most said to you
That man is adventurous
Never caught a fish
She never learned to swim.
I do not care, I love you
Bed of seaweed and sea anemone
I have been devouring
Thoughts.
Thus, while they run aground
On the beaches of Asia
I'll be waiting
In my humble hammock
Beachfront flushed.
JOSÉ ANÍS
