The Ox in the night
Master of pale moo-light
Sweating and glimmer
Linear and not
They steer
At the ship's helm
Whilst muted night
Holds high and fixed
His eyes
On the transmutation of the Dawn
The curtain falls on the revelries
Of nymphs, sileni and fauns
Irregular and tremulous
Long, long finger of lightning through the heavens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem