Under dawn's, crepuscule's lights
restless our shadows stretched
to extend to the boundless glazing sea,
to climb up the slopes of barren land.
At midday they used to wane, our measures to fit,
minds were not swelled by feathery charms.
But leisure times came
and wasted middays in light-hearted naps,
dreaming flights on plumage.
Painful the nostalgia
of missed and lost midday's shadows, alas!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem