When death struck
I was rowing in a narrow fjord the sea was calm
Then rocks fell into the water disturbed the peace I rowed on
Until a part of the mountain fell formed gigantic wave
I was lifted riding the wave and saw a village disappear.
The boat splintered, but I was safe.
I looked down into the village people coming out not knowing
They were dead. I saw them dissolve becoming drips of water
Before they ran into the sea and was the sea.
I kept on walking and came to a valley of roses they know nothing
Of the tragedy that befell the people in the fjord.
I built a house in the belief; here, the sea would never reach me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem