The crack of the corncrake breaks away the night amongst the half light.
The sun sits scheming afar, steadying, readying on a crimson cloud.
Gliding seagulls fawn upon the pale round water scrounging food.
I gaze on the overcast crashing of the relentless sea,
A Guillemot breaks from below screeching and beseeching me.
I look up and turn away then hazily reconsider the awakened day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem