The dancers are sensuous,
As flowers,
The ballerinas, gypsies,
And flamenco dancers,
Petals of tradition,
And modernity,
They dance in the streets,
In the theaters,
Upon the island shores,
Within dreams,
The butterflies,
Enraptured,
With the honey,
Of their rhythms,
Adorn their free-flowing dresses,
Thirsting,
for the fluidity of Beauty,
A violin weeps,
with still joyous tears,
A fountain in a plaza,
Hymn kissed,
With a nostalgia of stars
Reynaldo Casison
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem