I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”

126. Cf. Part I, 37, 48

l. 37-41
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

l. 46-48
...Here, she said,
Is your card, the drowned Phoeneican sailor.
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)