The storm came swiftly over the sea,
pursued by thunderclaps. On the low
nearby soft hill of dunes an infinity
of startled starlings rose like splintering shadow
and scattered to outstrip the gigantic roar
of the sky and the jagged lightning’s overlap,
and in the lit sky they wheeled and soared
in a frenzy of distorted shapes to escape
the threat of the now dark and menacing air.
No way, it seemed, to outfly the tightening storm’s snare:
I watched as, into a trawl-net of shadows, they disappeared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem