The Jetty

During the month that I was living at Honfleur I had not

yet seen the sea, for the doctor was making me stay

in my room.

But last night, tired of being so isolated, I built, taking

advantage of the fog, a jetty as far as the sea.

Then, right at the end of it, letting my legs hang down,

I looked at the sea, below me, which was breathing

deeply.

A murmur came from my right. It was a man sitting like

me with legs swinging and looking at the sea. "Now

that I am old," he said, "I am going to pull up every-

thing I have put there during the years." He began

to draw things up by means of pulleys.

And he brought up riches in abundance. He brought up

captains from other ages in dress uniforms, chests

studded with all sorts of precious things, and women

dressed lavishly but as they no longer dress. And as

he brought each being or thing to the surface, he

looked at it carefully with high hopes, then without

saying a word, while his face fell, he pushed it be-

hind him. So we filled up the entire pier. I don't re-

member exactly what there was, for I have no mem-

ory, but obviously it was not satisfactory, in everything

something had been lost which he hoped to recover

and which had faded away.

Then he began to throw everything back into the sea.

Like a long ribbon it fell and, when it wet you, froze you.

A last piece of junk which he was pushing off dragged him

in too.

As for me, shivering with fever, I wonder how I was ever

able to get back to my bed.

Henri Michaux

translated by Richard Ellmann