I swelled, swelled, swelled in the seawater
Engraving the names of a thousand and one blurred creatures in my mind
Always believing their thoughts were like mine
Therefore, frequently becoming speechless, naturally,
And when enough time had passed

Getting used to being alone and unequaled, like everyone else
I swelled, swelled, swelled in the seawater…

If someone saw,
They’d surely say, “How you’ve grown!”

When my flesh had sufficiently swelled
I reached the city gates

V. CITY

The Explorer Encounters Crowds

Rare Fairies

The taste in my mouth
Wasn’t so bad—of course,
One could believe this at the city gates
If one has never been fooled by beautiful things

Some are content because
They don’t want pleasant things to happen:
The beautiful offers tragic illusion.
As soon as people understand how rare beauty is
They lament uncontrollably.
So, the city’s greatest cruelty is:
Rare fairies !
They dance at the city gates

So, some people roam the city streets
With a steel mask over their eyes
And certainly, most certainly
Hide a severed piece of fairy
Inside the mask upon their flesh: the traces are rarely seen

The adolescents who walk in the heart and hands of the city
Eye the masked ones with disdain
Until the day their own steel mask arrives
Then they, too, long for a fairy among the city’s labyrinths

Some cower when they see a fairy
Some can’t bear to be separated from her, wish for death at her hand
In the end, they all turn into steel-masked tyrants
In the city of tyrants, and for this very reason, kindnesses are rare
Everyone hides a severed piece of fairy in their flesh. They hide it

Since fairies are so very rare,
City dwellers invent all kinds of games
So as not to die of sadness
Games of the mind and body
You may not know what’s going on, but
The city’s savvy people do
Gangrenous fairies drip down their flesh

First Play: Your Nape—Your Forehead

Your nape was once trivial
But entering the city has transformed it
Whatever coat you wear
Your neck remains exposed—
Your nape is now your most woeful spot

Rain constantly slips inside it
The wind finds your flesh even if you choose the most secluded street
Because…
You look at your shoes when you walk

This is the city’s first play:
If you lower your face, your gazelle-like neck will be exposed
Your soft flesh will be at the city’s mercy