now I hear the solemn lull-
a sea's changing salt stare, the coming of
a rhythmic enchanting melody when the sea breathes
sweeter perhaps, than a thousand guitar chords
of a famed pop star in Madison Square Garden.
for an exalted host of seraphs, Faerie Moon
brandishing the slim wand of night
conducts an orchestra of stars
playing twinkle, twinkle little star, a ditty
that's as old perhaps
as the sea wind stalking the silent shore
of a silver-maned seamless ocean,
probably such a night as when
that barbarous King did rape Philomel
while a nonchalant nightingale dolorously
with inviolable chord sang,
or, Sextus Tarquinius treacherous lust when
by brute force he took virtuous Lucretia at Collatium.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem