Daħlet Qorrot, Gozo
Water has a long story. So does my soul.
One it recounts every day to silent rocks,
an avalanche of memories that falls headlong
into this damp patch of darkened sand.
Under the sand the mute tongues of the waves
keep recounting, recounting their histories.
Since water is a long story in itself
it never tires and it never wants to stop.
If you go down to Daħlet Qorrot when it rains,
you’ll hear the water calling you to come near,
to lie down on the sand and listen to
long recitations that to the end unfold
like blood leaking silently from your soul.