Who is the belle, blonde, beauty
Sitting across
The vast seashore
Of the Pacific,
The Atlantic,
Sitting
And sitting by
The shore
And watching the waves
Rising and falling,
Touching the guard walls
And retreating back?
Who, who the blonde, belle, beauty
Ravishingly beautiful,
But sad from within,
Hearing the notes,
The sad tunes of humanity
In that tumult and commotion
Of the flurry and fury
Of the sea
Lying so vastly,
Ruffling humanity
And its perception
After being unfathomable?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem