("The orangery shall be...")

YVES BONNEFOY + GALWAY KINNBLL

I will take your dead face in my hands. I will lay it down in

its coldness. With my hands I will perform on your motionless

body the useless washing and dressing of the dead.

The orangery shall be your dwelling-place.

On the table raised by another light

You shall lay down your heart.

Your face shall catch fire, hunting through branches.

Douve shall be your name far off among the stones,

Douve deep and black,

Irreducible low water where effort shall spend itself.