The sea breathes like the ghosts,
Seas have inhaled their oxygen;
The ghouls are facing the frost,
Those in ice are stagnant like the pond.
But the sea is serious like the wind,
Throwing us away by its stare,
Letting it find the way to the zone
It calls purity and happiness and sign.
The sign comes from the ocean of seals
And onions of the watery and bland sea,
They watch their food like the sedentary
Man, who watches and gazes to be one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem