The sea-waves touch your open palms,
along the shore, blue waters bid
when stormy sea henceforth becalms,
and tide engulfs what skies forbid.
When solemn eyes their oaths avow
and roses beckon on your dream,
reach out and find his drifting prow
aboard your trip's perpetual stream.
Cause thoughts, like boats, contrive amiss;
for those who lived in old realms,
eternal love's confession is,
the touch of sea, upon the palms.
Perchance your eyes the mistral pledge
his drifting made the skylines' edge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
GREAT SONNET! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! +10++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++