ONE HEARS STILL THE SEA > Even as most nights we still hear the sea, mild, up and down, along the smooth sands. Echo of a voice in the closed mind, which dates from the time. And even this regular lament of gulls, perhaps the birds of the towers, that on April pushes towards the plain. Already you were near you, with that voice. And I would like, although you were, now, me an echo of memory as the darkness of the sea murmuring.
(Salvatore Quasimodo)
http://www.amazon.com/Salvatore-Quasimodo-Complete-Poems/dp/0856460931
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