Over the sea-waves frothy not only the
Seagulls circle, twist and linear fly:
But small white fleeces of early clouds
Still near to the liquid bosoms watery
Yet dusk came and reddened the white
Of clouds
The fleeces of the clouds thus densified
Rising akin to immense heavens in the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem