It is a rare hour before darkness
When water, air and clouds merge
To become one indivisible
Thin film of scarlet-stabbed space
Where I see neither sea nor sky,
Only a firmament of fine ripples
Indistinguishable from each other.
Tremulous within the bounds of horizon,
And only the dim scuds of stratus clouds
Spoil its rubicund face,
Or specks of islets
Dent the vermilion shade of water.
All the world is afterward concealed.