The skies are tremulous tonight,
Breeze is timid as it blows;
Maudlin waves sink deep in fright
A conch shell wails because it knows
that in the silken black tonight
a storm will rise against the seas
and with a vengeful wrathful might,
the winds will wreck the tall palm trees
and lash the stoic, silient shore,
and mark them for eternity;
and weeping rains will start to pour,
for sands lost to posterity.
The skies are tremulous tonight.
Not a single star in sight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem