Oh sea, if your tears do not halt in my moments of death
Swallow me whole, in a mild hangover do cry drunk.
The question is sent to your soul:
Why have your deals with death made so loudly and calmly and smoothly?
Answers to my name began from early times,
When islands were missing from the maps,
These days are crazy, just dear to me,
I love the islands that instantly curve the desires
But I was a cast-away and my seas did not listen.
So I shall fall into the sea this time, hope is at hand,
My glory is not gone, the sea has done
Too much to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem