A tropical disease may result,
The visit defines a point in our lives,
The country is poetic, like a river
Or like a garden or enclosure.
The palm trees shed their look
On our eyes like awed beings,
In strong containment of piety.
It is a bent door like a building of heaven.
The disease spreads fast from the bloom
Of the trees as if tropical diseases are real.
We need no trophy, no graceless entry
Into the heaven so bland,
When health at home is not of the tropics.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem