At half past five after work
I lead my darling
along the shore on the beach
with the wind blowing lightly through her hair,
it does sandpaper against us, let us shiver
and the sky is dull blue
while I hold her tightly against me
and at times we do embrace.
The Cape sun still is high
like a big yellow eye
that is watching us
when we notice a ship far away in the blue ocean
just before the horizon and the smell
of fried fish lies finger-licking good on the evening breeze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem