The sea is made of droplets.
A part of it vapours, pours, runs
And dissolves into the sea
From where it soared; In between
Some dries and some percolates.
Which is to dry and which is to percolate
Are not in the hands of the force
That sets them in motion.
No prayer would alter it either.
22.07.2003
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem