ah! I yearn now for the burning suns
that I yearned to forego a month ago:
the burning sands I yearn
The restless bay
Where restless wavelets lapped so sweetly
When the red dusk fell heavily
Yet strange and cool and sensual over the bay:
And the strange bay
Was filled with spirit of the dusk
Cool were the waters where I bathed
And from the shore
The fishermen’s boats prepared to sail.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem