They roll to the shore like a giant line of soldier’s line after line
They crash and smash them self’s with a roar like thunder upon the rocks and sand
The sight of such giant waves makes you marvel at the power of nature.
The hissing and froth makes a sight to behold.
Then as if a magic wand, has been waved they are gone back into the depth from which they where made.
Back to the depths to ready for the next battle when they will march again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem