Midday. A corner of the deserted beach.
The huge, deep, open sun on high
Has chased all the gods from the sky.
The harsh light falls like a punishment.
There are no ghosts and no souls,
And the vast, ancient, solitary sea
Loudly claps its hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Feels so good to walk there, the smell of the sand blown by a hot breeze, the searching blue of the sky..grateful to have your world open to walk in..congrats ana.