The Sea by the Bay
she stands with the wakes on the high sea
the sea who took away a part of her life
a waking memories of the surges and the lush of the waves
as life continues in their proverbial itinerary
in the presence of its strong attendance.
we speak of the specks and the wreckages,
in the force of these currents
the minds of the seas and our own
in the presence of this restlessness
the incarnate belongings of this world,
which is not unlike our fate
but in their hands we areweave and thrown
as inconsequential debris and wreckages.
not sentient being.
like the drown sailor who promises a ring on her finger.
mere pretenders of whats to learn
but leaves empty handed in its thrush,
genius and all, assuming,
low or unbowed, to be beaten forever,
the DNA'sinthe greathands of the sea God, altogether
washed sometime like
some thrownflotsam on the foams,
in the mighty roar of its harsh tides,
with the presence of these drowned victims, scattering,
unruly ghosts in these waters.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem