I navigate against the current.
When the rest are coming back I’m setting out.
Before taking thought I think it over.
I weep and smile in silence
I seek the ring I lost
in a region of light and well-being.
Tutto ch’altrui aggrada me disgrada.
When I can I differ.
I don’t say ‘prickly pear’
And to lose a living
I work on Sundays.
Moribund I’ll celebrate —
should the family permit,
and the other powers —
Quart, Pere. Vacances pagades. Barcelona: Proa, 1972.