Behold the dusk extending street to street
And its wide fingers caress the Port skies:
Behold the dusk like a cloud of immensity
Sprinkle with somber red wherever it pass.
Soon will the hanging bat non-hang itself
From the sooty balcony-top adrift above
The sixth floor looking sideways to the sea
And soon the dusk air will
Be as an ocean high wherein it sails.
And in the dusk-red skies an immensity
Of stubborn silence holds – the sea
Without a wave all startled as with guilt
Overloaded holds or else in sympathy:
Down the old steps a pair of footsteps
From step to step the lingering silence break
And in the distance fade and in the past:
On high the eerie bat-cry sounds from time to time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem