you think that it is only
the sea whose waters ebb
and rise, and waves move
unceasingly on the sands,
or perhaps light, that
dissipates, that fades and
appears, receding and ceding,
and spreading colors and hues.
our feelings too, now here and
there, and then gone, but there
are those which faithfully remain,
the coconut tree beside the house,
the dog on the stair, the stone on
the hill, grasses, and trusses too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem