The sea

Icy surface shivers on a scorching wind

A spectrum of hot summer colours

Dances the waltz of life on the sea bottom

While cold, blue waves

Hit upon the rocks of death

Touching the yellow, beach send.

Sometimes lost flowers on dump shores

may be found, as clear as a tear on a dirty palm

Carried by sea waves in the darkest hours

Not asking whether they fear life at all?

On the bottom of the sea, gray stones sleep

And dead sirens on a reef peacefully dream

A bed made of a bright sea weed

Deep blue sky is the ground above their head

A scent of sea drops spreads all around

Carrying yellow roses toward the wet ground

The Chrysanthemum’s shadow is further and further away

While the sea keeps on telling its story – it whirrs

And rolls its cold waves