My heart is the eye
Of the hurricane:
A calm central wall
Divided from the stroms
Of my body.
The suspriration of violent
Heaving, passion.
Flows out in funnels,
Breaking what it meets,
Good or bad,
Sandy beach or saddened brows,
Undeclared lovers of the sudden
Sun, under which I hide,
And the unleashed currents
Beckoned by the tide
And the continuity of time itself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful poem. All hearts are chaotic, but perhaps not as big as yours.