Cloistered cups riot the table of delight,
Chunks of food line the plates so easy;
Cloudy was the water of the day and night,
Depressed by too clean a measure.
Closed was the shop of delights that entertained
The populace of a feverish town, devilish and decided;
Close those rocks so heavy in salt for the sea,
The rocky ends were on food and drink from the sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem