The Dry Tongue



Pierre Reverdy



-translated by Kenneth Rexroth







There is a nail

   Holding up the slope

The bright tatter of twisting wind blows and anyone

  who understands

     The whole road is naked

the pavement the sidewalks the distance the railings are

  white

          Not a drop of rain

          Not a leaf of a tree

          Not the shadow of a garment

                        I wait

                          the station is a long way off

The river still flows as you go up along the embankments

    the earth is dried out

        everything naked and white



With only the movement of a clock out of order

            the noise of the train passed

                  I wait