Seas and strands of ancient loves
Island one
Bent on your shoulder
Her forehead hardly weighs
Weary loose motion
Blank averted eyes
Wordless
The mauve green day
Breathing away
High sails flapping
In the listless breeze
Island two
A bay bows itself open
Where the brown flood calms down
Deep-darker than night sky
Amid the echoing waves
The quibbling choir of vain birds
Voices of which dead dwindled kin
No land for live dwelling
Far under the dim night orb
Distant lights slowly sway
Island three
From green tide
Up
An oval sun
Springs for you 'lone
Naked shiver
Gift
To the rising day
Postcard
From a country forever quiet
You yonder time pilgrim
Move among slow signs
Under the sun twin face
Greyed
Your tamed breath goes toying
Among the foamy jetsam
The meteors
The fleeing bitter silk you tread
Oblique
The warm sand-shoulder yields
Under your bare foot
Towards the crumbly skyline.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem