Between the make-believe home
And the waves
Only tiny little fingers
The sea knows the child
Will raise her dreams again and again
No matter how many times
He washes them away
Still he wants to watch
The pretty mess
The miss makes
Of her face and frock and feet
And the way she beats the water back
Scolding a playmate
Who doesn't follow the rules
Then forgives him, at once
If he keeps away
Then invites him
To come and wash the home away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem