Going to the sea is like swimming in the ocean adrift,
Sensing a movement through breathing and swathing,
Bridging the hurt and basically dancing and winning
Each swim, each binary motion, or what I call it.
This unique redress shines from up above,
My rehearsal carried itself to this world
When beginnings were major, far too major.
The swimming act is special as pies for a cook
And a chef. So chefs do bite water in the form of action.
I think food is in the planet late. Too much drink
In the meantime.
We are ocean, trouble and blood which thinks
Like a swimmer in mud, in the entire sea at night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem