Firm at the wheel
They come in with the tide
Past Morro Castle into Habana Harbor
Young and free
To ramble past
The beauties that
Wait on the Malecon
Drenched by the crashing waves and two moons
Washed over by the eyes of Cuban stars
Pouring in from the opening black sky, feeling the
Music stirring as hot blood drifts like fog on the water
Sweat drenched shirts come undone
Quickly by expert fingers
Lips and eyes will have this first dance
Under the perpetual moon rise
Here at this moment that
Has always been
Only here
Only then
Only now
Only there
It was them
It was me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem