Restoration

  There were no hammocks,
  the lavatories and show-
  ers had been boarded up
  with boards the salt had
  turned pink, there wasn't
  a caravan or a tent, there
  wasn't anything. He hadn't
  expected this.

He crossed the road and went towards the sea. "Here was the girls' tent, and Ines's," he thought, and looked at the sea, which was wild, with great waves and spray; then he left. "Here were the go-karts, there the roast chicken on spits, here the tobacconist's where Maria-Rita bought ambre solaire and Ines went back to change it for another cream." The roads were full of sand blown in by the wind and forming small dunes, there was no music, no perfume, there were no cars, nothing.

                      

Goffredo Parise
Sillabario n. 2
  Mare
Arnoldo Mondadori, 1982©
Isabel Quigley, translation
Solitudes
  Sea
J.M. Dent & Sons, Ltd, 1984©