Paul Klee

On the fatal slope, the traveller takes advantage

of the favourable day - icy-smooth and no pebbles -

and with eyes blue with love, discovers his season

which wears large stars as rings on every finger.

On the beach the sea has left its ears

and the sand has hollowed out space for a fine crime.

Torture is harder on torturers than on victims;

knives are signs and bullets are teardrops.