The sun began the
Hungover suicide of dusk
First brushing the Keys’ dying ivory,
Then a lure cast west of Hawaii,
A glow-bobber in the Far East burning
Slipping into the waves’ temporary bed,
In a sweltering forest of tangled coral branches,
And darting flying fish, tiny eclipses on
The slumbering day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem