Beams Blaze
Beams blaze, heat-hazed,
We laze thirst-crazed
Through May’s baked days
Dismayed, sun fades,
Too soon it’s June
Clouds loom, all doom
We fume, in gloom
Our room’s a tomb
We blame our pain
On rain. Our aim
Is plain: We claim
A plane to Spain
In fact we pack
To bask, relaxed
In Basque tin shack
Then track way back
To where the air
Is barely fair
And there we tear
Our hair, despair
That we will be
Not free to see
The sea till we
Agree to free
Some days, to laze
Amazed, and gaze
Unfazed, where ray’s
Beams blaze, heat-hazed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem