My mind ponders this:
The water takes the ship,
the wind speaks through the sails.
My mind ponders this:
The sea drove my mind away,
the water churned in wave crests.
Of what would I thank the sea?
It has swallowed many men.
It has borrowed many children.
I do not love the strand.
The sea has taken my father.
To the waves my only brother.
The more weaves in the sea...
The waves, the thoughts of my father
Water, the blood of my brother.
Why was I not taken?
Why this child not borrowed,
taken below the waves?
I do not come to the sea with thanks,
nor do I love the strand.
I do not love these strands.