On a raft adrift,

 in the open sea or on a river,

my soul was full of strange ideas.

 Blurry dreams and no tomorrow,

My mind wanders without aim or direction.

Sailing along the currents,

at the mercy of circumstances,

 tossed by the waves beyond my understanding,

 I navigated by sight.

Sometimes I ran into reefs raised on my way or was thrown overboard by ships of indifference.

I sank several times,

 survived several shipwrecks,

 swimming to the shore in the fog guided by a brother or a sister of chance.

The good soul had sounded the horn and lit a bonfire that had warmed my heart.

On a plane, in a night flight,

my mind wandered the deserts sometimes barren of human thought like a hero of the airmail to bring manuscripts to the lovers of words.

One day for lack of fuel, my mind plunged into the abyss like that of Saint Exupery in the Mediterranean off Massilia.

The sea whispered my stories in the ear of the wind.

Zephyr now whistles them to whoever wants, on stormy nights to keep company to the lighthouse keepers and the topmen on rough nights.