Хвилі

           Iwillpacethisterraceandwatchtheshipsbowlingdownthetide.Awomanwalksondeck,withadogbarkingroundher.Herskirtsareblown;herhairisblown;theyaregoingouttosea;theyareleavingus;theyarevanishingthissummerevening.NowIwillrelinquish;nowIwillletloose.NowIwillatlastfreethechecked,thejerked-backdesiretobespent,tobeconsumed.Wewillgalloptogetheroverdeserthillswheretheswallowdipsherwingsindarkpoolsandthepillarsstandentire.Intothewavethatdashesupontheshore,intothewavethatflingsitswhitefoamtotheuttermostcornersoftheearth,Ithrowmyviolets,myofferingtoPercival.’

           Thesunnolongerstoodinthemiddleofthesky.Itslightslanted,fallingobliquely.Hereitcaughtontheedgeofacloudandburntitintoasliceoflight,ablazingislandonwhichnofootcouldrest.Thenanothercloudwascaughtinthelightandanotherandanother,sothatthewavesbeneathwerearrow-struckwithfieryfeathereddartsthatshoterraticallyacrossthequiveringblue.

           Thetopmostleavesofthetreewerecrispedinthesun.Theyrustledstifflyintherandombreeze.Thebirdssatstillsavethattheyflickedtheirheadssharplyfromsidetoside.Nowtheypausedintheirsongasifgluttedwithsound,asifthefullnessofmiddayhadgorgedthem.Thedragon-flypoisedmotionlessoverareed,thenshotitsbluestitchfurtherthroughtheair.Thefarhuminthedistanceseemedmadeofthebrokentremoroffinewingsdancingupanddownonthehorizon.