<i>Relinquunt Ommia Servare Rem Publicam.</i>
The old South Boston Aquarium stands
in a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded.
The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.
The airy tanks are dry.
Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass;
my hand tingled to burst the bubbles
drifting from the noses of the cowed, compliant fish.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem