Waves break in the south. Further round
I caught up with their sound.
Straying from what's presumed, on air
Of sea-tangs holds its share
Til when the west, of its own shore
Hot frothed up, sucking more
Of one's slow haul of sense-making
From out 'neath day's sinking.
Angelsea vic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem