Elegy Now the voices are far away. Fatherland: shadowy taciturn lamp. It's only me, with my kiss that expired at the border, who returns to your marine pottery turned into a vessel of broken pollen. Now the pain is gone, and my deserted body absents itself: I am all the universal time of the trespassed senses in the fragile obscure dawning of my soft farewell.    Castellano Français      No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher or, in case of photocopyng or other reprographic copying, a licence from Canadian Reprography Collective (Cancopy), 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900 Toronto, ON M5E 1E5 Canadá. Ph 800-893-5777 / (416)868-1620 /Fax:(416) 868-1621. -- U.S. requests should be sent to Copyright Clearance Center, Inc. 222 Rosewood Drive Danvers, MA 01923 USA. Ph. 978-750-8400 / Fax 978-750-4470