The physical world is meaningless tonight

And there is no other. There is Ha-eé-me, who sits

And plays his guitar. Ha-eé-me is a beast.

Or perhaps his guitar is a beast or perhaps they are

Two beasts. But of the same kind—two conjugal beasts.

Ha-eé-me is the male beast … an imbecile,

Who knocks out a noise. The guitar is another beast

Beneath his tip-tap-tap. It is she that responds.

Two beasts but two of a kind and then not beasts.

Yet two not quite of a kind. It is like that here.

There are many of these beasts that one never sees,

Moving so that the foot-falls are slight and almost nothing.

This afternoon the wind and the sea were like that—

And after a while, when Ha-eé-me has gone to sleep,

A great jaguar running will make a little sound.