WHAT CRIMES ARE THESE
What crimes are these
Filling my consciousness with chaos
Speaking unceasingly of darkness and pain
Crimes of the dead uneasy in their graves
Haunting the spheres of the shadow world
Under the chestnut trees
On the hill of the cat cemetery.
I know them from their voices
I know them from their names
But these travellers tell me nothing of their past
Although their rags betray their tales
And the voyages from whence they come
The sea waves are still rocking in their brains
And the salted air is poisoned with their desires.
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