the moon rose plays at loving
the sea rings with a fantasy song
under the depths I was drunk on your love
wine of a warm, sweet passion through which
a wild light leaped over glistening sand,
a blue flame of arc lit our soft desire;
and through the naked sleep of morning,
a dark fever flickers:
its eternal throat will laugh
when the eye of the wave shall rise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem