- Aimé Césaire
It is this fine film on
the swirls of the cloudy wine of the sea
It is this great rearing
of the horses of the earth
halted at the last moment
on a gasp of the chasm
it is this black sand
which roughs itself up on the hiccup of the abyss
it is this stubborn
serpent's crawling out the shipwreck
this mouthful of stars
revomited into a cake of fireflies
this stone on the ocean
tugging with its drool
at a trembling hand for
passing birds
here Sun and Moon
form the two cleverly
engaged toothed wheels
of a Time ferocious in
grinding us
it is this wretchedness
these droppings
this sob of coral reefs
it is alighting from the
memorable sky
down onto the lure of our
hearts red at dawn
this beak of prey
breaking the unwelcoming chest
cage
and
quagmire
It is this kestrel which
hovering blazons the noon sky of our black hearts
this abducting
this sacking
this dumping
this earth
