En Coulliure

Southern winds blew and the man set off on a journey. His pride, a little faith, and a bitter taste were his luggage. He looked back and saw nothing but corpses on colorless fields. His garden without a flower and his forests without an oak. And old, and tired, by the sea he drank sip by sip his past. Antonio didn't want to be a prophet or a martyr. And he became a little of everything unintentionally. A thick gray slab veils the brother's dream. Grass grows at his feet and a cypress shades him in summer. The vase filled with artificial flowers, some verses, a carnation, and laurel branches are the personal belongings of the old, tired man who drank his past sip by sip by the sea. Antonio didn't want to be a prophet or a martyr. And he became a little of everything unintentionally.