The sea may rise and fall
In great sweeping arcs now,
Where once were ragged edges,
Joined together as if by madmen.
But the red light of morning
Begs for us to latch and seal
And bolt fast what has shaken loose.
She would swallow us whole,
Neither of vengeance nor compassion,
Solely because,
It is her nature.
And we are but the lucky ones.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem