The silver sands and the platinum beads,
Where the knuckles sunk to press the knees,
The waves smooches with the seashore sea shells,
Sometimes silently as the quiet road side puddles,
Waves get violent, on the beds of valiant warriors,
Taking away all the crusty crumbs that are left,
from the feasting plates, feasted are the hearts,
Billions of nocturnal stars look at them wide.
Billions of nocturnal stars look at them wide. Beautifully expressed. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a nice picture, nocturnal waves. may i say, nicely painted.