The golden yellow ball chooses to turn red
Looking it straight makes one see its rhythmic pulse
As it secretly creeps down the blue sky
As if surrendering to the approaching darkness,
It calls back its spreading arms and folds them into the red ball shape
Just as deep under the horizon rim as it is high above it
Down in the glittering sea appears its twin
The systematic tide shakes the twin below
Making it appear rather blurred and unstable, but still alive
In a romantic slow pace, the two draw nearer and nearer
As if they were too ashamed to touch,
Little curly and now purple clouds rush to provide some faint cover
Gradually turning off the shining spherical lamp
Which settles on the western rim arc to arc
At last touching with the twin that was readily creeping up for the daily date
As if dissolving upon touching
The red ball slowly sinks
Paving way for the conquering darkness
Which shoos all observers home
By Dydimus Zengenene
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