The moon drags the sea about,
and makes the tides come in and out.
The man up there in the moon,
stirs up the sea with a long spoon.
The sound of the lapping seas,
while wading in up to my knees.
Seagulls bob up and down.
The moon rises, the sun goes down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem