I pine
in
dusk
and
now
that
I
have
you
I pine the more
more sad and
more lustrous
my eyes.
My eyes
see
wonders
bedazzled
they swim
in the airs
that complain.
In the red of
the dusk
still unmoving
stand
I
and
the
first lights
on the port
on Valletta
they light
and
the first bats
over waters
they fly
Be longer sweet dusk
for
for whom be in
love
there's a sweet sour joy
in the sad of the sad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem