Fish rippling the shadows, light polishing
Borne along with the centuries while they
laughed and cried.
Flowing through Time, this ancient onlooker,
Where galleons once anchored on chafing tide. Passing buildings full of charming mellowness,
This old fellow as noble as Nelson and Cook.
Heaving with ships, but with a timeless stillness,
Like the now cherished words of a classical book. Like a butterfly's wings, wide-open and noiseless,
Glassy and glossy as it gently wafts on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem