the skin of a calm moon nightly leads
the depths far movements of conformity
with fission’d eyes to plumb the deeps
and the fishes secrets, keep
riding purple oceans of new born rain
whose curtain baffles blue skies again
weaving down and up, upon each sea
whose howling our continuity
washing, washing down the dust
stirring up the tidal lusts
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem