En el fango de marea, momentos antes que se arrastraba la puesta del sol, docenas de starfishes. Era como si el fango era un cielo y estrellas enormes, imperfectas se movi a travs de ella tan lentamente como las estrellas reales cruzan cielo. De una vez pararon, y, como si hubieran aumentado simplemente su receptividad a la gravedad, se hundieron abajo en el fango, descolorado abajo todava en l y endecha, y para el momento en que el color de rosa de la puesta del sol se rompiera a travs de ellos eran tan invisibles como las estrellas verdaderas en el amanecer.
Volunteers needed to translate poetry into different languages. Please help us correct the translation of these poems. We currently have 79,663 translations and are trying to create the largest and most accurate database of world poetry translations. We have started with machine translations which are very inaccurate. Please translate your favorite poem on this site. You will be given credit for your translation and a link to your site if desired. COPYRIGHT NOTICE: These poems have been gathered and submitted by many of people, and from many sources. Most have no copyright. However, some may may have copyrights. We have tried to collect poems that appear on many external sites where the author seems to want to disseminate. If you are an author and do not want your poetry translated into other languages then send a removal request and it will be promptly removed.
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