shimmering sea
floating forever on
the waves
landing on the shore
the shimmering is gone
the gray sands are hungry
and there are too many of them
countless
annihilators
of motion and light
earth and water
always part away
the sky is ready
for the ball of fire
that soon
shall take its
needed sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem