Gazing at the tall-necked heron sweeping the bay,
the steep, torn bay at Pataua, where all my hearts reside,
I see adventurers set out beyond my narrow land
to worlds I cannot dream of and deeds the papers splash,
Hillary to Everest and Rutherford to an unquiet
laboratory at the other end of the sea,
stiff-necked with dreams no longer mine to hold.
So Homer stood on the bounded shore watching an endless sea,
where once his new-housed people came...
Faith and doubt clashing together in the night,
torn eyes screaming for the lost light,
Oh on this simple music of yet another day
let fall the dark benignity of your unburied heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem