I tried to forget about the sea, first. Then, all changed.
I bought the tower on the beach.
I walked down to the waves,
And it somehow began:
Far from shore, we became a floating boat.
Away from land, Oh, how the wind blows!
The water is calm and the sun is soft.
I’m learning to read again – the sky and your hand,
As I would read Proust or the book of Muhammad.
I already know how to read some of the easier stars,
I’d prefer not to set anchor ever.
You as all sailors would carry a knife
Heavy enough to chop wood and watermelons.
There is a big box of food – pasta, rice, some cheese,
And hard ship’s bread.
We also have a case with – paper, pens, books, and candles.
In front of us, everything is green,
And there are sea flowers everywhere.
There are also seagulls and dolphins.
I do not want to move from there.
It is my home.
When I see all this, I tremble:
“I’m lucky to be this boat-island, with you, my sailor!”
And you add these words on a long piece of wood or paper:
“WE CAME HERE ON THE 8TH SEPTEMBER.
After that, we decided to make a cut
For each solar minute.”
(Painting “Let the boat” by Sara Maino, 2021)