Seashell Poem by Vic Postnikov

Immersed in what deep surge,
You spent a horde of winters
(you’d better know them not,
a child of azure wave!) ?
What fathomless abyss
your fragile nacre embraced?
How many miles you roamed
across the bluish haze?
But now, far-off from waves,
You summon peace and rest
On stationary sands.
In vain! The call of waves,
As distant Cymbal call,
Still lures you with a wrench
That never can be tamed.
My soul – is just like you,
Like in your curls, there lives
A restless, distant call;
There, in the heart, a conch,
Is sounding dull and slow;
Reminding me of Her.

- Jose Maria de Heredia

2005, Trans. by V.Postnikov