FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

an isolated island
has only pebbles and sand
for its love
all affections are settled only
on the foams of the sea

the caressed hair of the wind
the simplicity of the plain
if the world is in chaos it professes
its innocence
if the world ends tomorrow in a nuclear
bombilation
it hears nothing but the buzz of the bee
the hush of the butterfly's flutter
it does not disregard its beliefs
it is an island and it knows not how this world
shall end.