Strange thoughts invade in me from breeze
and I'm trying to realize for myself
how the foamy and clear forms tempt us
fervently in infinity.
What is the force that pulls
the man in the plow of the waves -
the visions watch together over him
not to be calm on the sandy shore.
And the silver knife on the horizon
engraves our immortal myths -
our ambition unshakable
in the afterlife to transfer us.