Black Earth Red Earth

Black earth red earth, you come from the sea, from the arid green, where there are ancient words and bloody toil and geranium among rocks— you don't know how much you bring of toil and words from the sea, you're rich like a memory, like the barren countryside, you hard and sweetest word, ancient because of the blood gathered in the eyes; young, like a fruit that is a memory and a season— your breath rests under the sky of August, the olives of your look sweeten the sea, and you live and live again without amazement, certain like the earth, dark like the earth, a grinder of seasons and dreams that reveals itself under the moon to be so old, just like the hands of your mother, the bowl of the brazier.