it may be soon
or when the moon is lost
years ago
I left the winter frost
I cannot know
as sand falls in the glass
the many or the few
as seasons pass
so now I view the moon
in swaying palms
nor bid farewell
to Florida's sweet alms
she has been
the only faithful love
always like a goddess
from above
I am yet consumed
in her desire
I still cherish heat
and her sweet fire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem