The first stars tremble as if shimmering in green water. It will be a long time yet before they
harden into diamonds. And still longer before I can witness the silent games of the shooting stars.
Deep in the heart of some nights, I have seen so many racing sparks that it seemed as if a great
wind were blowing among the stars.
Gathered for the night on our village square, that patch of sand lit by the flickering light from our
crates, we waited. We were waiting for the dawn that would save us. And something indefinable
gave that night the flavour of Christmas. We shared memories, we bantered and we sang. We
tasted the gentle excitement of a well-planned celebration. And yet we were infinitely destitute.
Wind, sand and stars. Austere even for a Trappist. But on that poorly lit patch, six or seven men
who possessed nothing in the world but their memories were sharing invisible riches.
The golden hills offered up their luminous slopes to the moon, and others rose up in the shadow
to its frontier with the light. In this deserted factory of darkness and moonlight there reigned the
peace of work in abeyance and the silence of a trap, and I fell asleep within it.
When I awoke I saw nothing but the pool of the night sky, for I was lying on a ridge with my
arms stretched out, facing that hatchery of stars. With no understanding at that moment of those
depths, I was seized by vertigo, for with no root to cling to, no roof or tree branch between those
depths and me, I was already adrift and sinking, abandoned to my fall like a diver.
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first of landforms is not the most common and it has been used 576feet 68th to 6inches in my 7
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