ON THE PRECIPICE OF WAVES

Waves, waves: with their dreams the sailor sways, and the living who has not been swallowed by Atlantis! Bikini-clad amazons from sea foam, Sea goddesses boil my blood, Like the bewitching words of dreams. They hope for romantic compliments. Trenches, valleys, chasms open like gates of the Sea: the ancient wise!

Murmuring, murmuring graveyard, Lover licking the rocks' southern hips! Chewing on the broken crumbs of memories, what remains is like tiny moments. The sun's volcanic knife-edge, pricked, yet wounds my blistered skin: insomnia greets me, whenever the night's livid light looks upon me!

Cautiously I dare to loll: my struggling lack of oxygen helps me in the fear of death; with the bursting of bubbles that call life, it warns me of dangers. And all footprints that once immortal emotions Imposed in desert sand-dune homes - Turn to petrified stone. 

But has anyone ever asked why a stone bleeds when water touches it? Even now my heart is dominated by a mood of pessimism: where despondency and self-pity gently shine out! 
Until now I myself had not suspected that this bombastic moment, which conveys an eternal universe, could be captivated! - In the secret, bubbling caverns of my heart, fairy cells run, ceaselessly, peacefully. I listen to the lines of my thoughts that create the fragile and tiny rhythm of your breathing,

and how thy priceless heart slows and rises beneath thy breast! - Now the changed World is barren and desolate; without thee all is lost!