‘You’ll have to find somebody else now’,
and she spoke to the green in his eyes,
there was nothing from nothing about it,
so the laws of the jungle seemed wise.
We could meet at St. Raphael’s station,
stretch a view for the promising sight,
walking fingers round curves on the bay sweep,
tread with arms melted each into night.
There’s a small distant hope of forgiveness,
as you wander my head, clothed in less,
than I’ve ever seen St.Tropez flirting,
under canopies, suntan and dress.
So let’s smart with a feeling for somewhere,
just a love lying deeper than most,
off the beaches in Agay sur la mer,
in a dream floating free down the coast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem