The rivers of night,
Bathe,
Upon her rose thighs
As the evening gypsies,
Change, clouds
Change, rain,
Change, sun,
Change, dresses,
Kisses, and caresses,
In the nightingale gazebo
They Undress,
Their weariness,
In honey and sighs
And bathe in an ethereal lake,
Warm with evening moons
The crescents are honey roses
Reynaldo Casison
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem