Each time we swim
Each time we sit down
At the sea side,we see the breeze blows cool,
We feel the ocean.
Not in the cup that we hold
In our hands.
Not in the cans of zobo redish drinks,
That we sip with great comfort.
Our eyes stays on On the ripples we see That turn over and over
In the folded water of waves That approaches us at that shore Reflecting the skylines
In glitters of the crystal balls
That makes the silver surface Of water that roll in the open
River spaces.
As we see it so clearly
As peering sky that eat not up
The moist we feel and the soul’s comfort,
In the resurgence of a strolling nature
To attend all that abide
« return.