DUNES Poem by Carlos de Oliveira

To count the grains of sand in these dunes is my present task. I never
imagined they were so similar, in their imponderable minuteness, in the
scintillation of salt and gold that is wearing out my eyes. My friend, the inventor of
games, found me practically blind. I hardly recognized him in the radiant fog of the
beach. He spoke with his usual precision:
"What you need is a microscope. Get one right away, transform those
imperceptible grains into great orographic masses, into stars, and set yourself up
on one of them. Analyze its valleys, its mountains, take advantage of the energy of
its brilliance, like that of shattered glass, to send to Earth firm scientific data. After
that choose a comfortable patch of shade and wait for the astronauts to wake you
up."