You came to me in gentle hours
You, of the soft sand and oceans
I, of mountains and meadow air
An inference of port soaked wood
Alongside soft Irish heather
I breathed you in and, in return,
You loved the very bones of me
In whom your salty kisses linger
Still, I see it all the better.
My love. My salt soaked darling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem