Wading through foam to the sea
I pass between rocks that aren't seen.
An easier course with out thought
to discourse,
waves that are warm most can feel.
Who stood up, I sold what was said?
Saying what was said that none said.
Being near what was said-I stood
like the breeze- bushes without leaves
feel the cold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem