a dream, mere flotsam, swept in by a sea,
elusive jetsam, jagged branch of a tree,
transparent pebbles, pink, green, swirl,
scooped-up and sieved by hands of a girl.
day turned violet, far as eye could see,
except where a glimmer of light broke free
a warm wind floated around naked forms,
man, woman together would face coming storms,
no need for fear, no need for dissent,
just lying together the sky for a tent,
staring up at this mottled crown,
they saw it was good, they knew it was sound.
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I would like to translate this poem