o, port –
in your long, patient night
we come,
while our steps
zigzagging forgets the sea
in favour of your street’s firm horizon –
into your lap we throw,
with the proud gesture of the rich,
our stingily saved-up longing,
the thought joys of our nights –
with the gifts of your generous hands
you awake
our, of the beating waves,
mercifully dulled thoughts,
that we may never forget you –
o, port –
in your lamps’ overbearing lights
we greet the day
screaming sleepy hymns in praise
of your fat, calm water –