Down the hill and after sunset, on the beach I sit in sand
On my back the vacuum of space, its cold hands embrace me in its victory over warmth
The drumbeat of the tide, and all of evil's pride spread loneliness upon the earth
But on this beach, God's mercy from above, instructed light to warm my hands.
This woman he called fire, untamed, like a gypsy she raises her arms to heaven tapping her castanets
And with her dancing, she casts out embers, the jealous hearts of men she's scorned, forgotten and forlorn, on their deathbed these hearts still mourn.
She consumes with all her might, leaving nothing within sight of her many heads of minarets
Yet I tremble not, just draw near, for unlike me she has no soul, and vanishes by dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem