(no subject)

[rejectomorph]

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