I woke up, but I was gaping, The train had shaken throughout the night, It was now going toward vast fogs That we're feeling, thick jointly, down there, Dawn rent from time to time by spoons of lightning. I watched the origin of the world In the forests of the barrier; and all at once That other force below a space Of rocks and vines. The storm, the rain Hit its fume back against the bottom, But a red passion flared up, Seizing by the smattering the base of the sky. How long were you burning, wine agriculturist’s fire, Who wanted you there, and for whom on this planet?

And then it was day; and the sun Cast its thousand trunks of light On the lack e that wrapped the blue two olen cushions In the cabin where people dozed, Their heads still bobbing. I did not sleep, I was still at the age when one is full of hope, I attached my words to the low peaks That I could see reaching through the windows.