The mountainous coast is lit up as bright as day by the full moon that’s trav-

          elling toward us

The Southern Cross is in the East the South remains all black

It’s suffocatingly hot

Big chunks of wood are floating on the thick waters

On deck the two German girl-acrobats are walking around almost stark

          naked

They’re looking for a cool spot

The little Potuguese doctor who’s accompanying the emigrants from his

          country as far as Buenos Aires winks at me as he passes by

I can just see him out of breath in a large unoccupied cabin with both Ger-

          man girls

Two ships pass at starboard and three at port

All five are lit up as if for a gay old night

You’d think we were in the port of Monte Carlo with virgin woods thrusting

         way down into the sea

Pricking up my ears and listening with breathless attention I seem to hear a

         rattling of leaves

Or maybe my sadness at disembarking tomorrow

After a good quarter of an hour I become aware of the thin song of an emi-

        grant on the forecastle in front where some clothes are drying in the

        moonlight and motioning me to come