as if they sprang up from counting
many practical medicines
in notebooks forever unopened
and as they proceed and
as they come close you can see them
holding something in their hands.
Staffs of pilgrims they hold
and wreaths of criers made of
wild olive tree branches
their roughly nailed sandals echo
hanging off their shoulders
with their traveller’s bags.
(And the emancipated waves
rise on the marble quays
splashing endlessly and frothing
and from far away is heard
the horse’s gallop and
the coming infantry’s roar).
Libros Libertad 