My world
static now.
I am dead to everything
except the sound of the sea
that is within me.
No more calm
but raging with a storm,
the angry waves lashing
against the high cliffs.
But the sea is deep,
down in my heart.
None can witness
the tumult from outside,
the impregnable stoical exterior
bearing no sign of the inner trepidation.
A voice calls out to me
above the howling sound of the sea.
Slowly I raise my head
and see myself, calm and intrepid.
Am I the weary sailor
waiting to be washed ashore
after my ship sinks?
My spirit will no longer languish
but ready to override
the storm than wait for it to subside.
For I love the song of the sea
that is in me,
the soft murmur
when it is calm and when the billows roar.
The heart recognizes in them the melodies
and whispers the both tones.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is myth and mistake upon us the way of finding peace, calm and love when it comes warmth you glace for some extra for real you should abandon all then keep path towards sela or jungle no diiference can be found because to find peace you can roam any where but it do not have a certain place keep this prayer to be friend forever as you with nature and you with unseen mermering many were here hearing this song