Looking out across Prince William Sound
As ghostly Icebergs float on by in majesty
Their colour matching nothing but the icy sea
The deep blue and the pure white mixing magically
Sailing through the debris of the glacial pack
Wondering how long the trip will hold my gaze
I trip as if on stolen drugs and LSD
These sights, if not a dream, a soulful haze
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem