I have been looking forward to see,
As I used to dream of the sea,
On the shore I raced my eye to the sea
To reach the edge-end cannot be.
The wave came from the far-away,
I stood and looked admiring.
“Welcome” was heard that time by me,
I was so wondering.
There were no soul four sides around.
I eared, where from it came.
I heard again repeating sound,
the voice was mine, the same.
Whose was the mystic voice that spoke?
Was it the Mediterranean sea,
…Or, maybe, it was me?
I got at water spreading my wings,
Into the depth once diving.
Just once I shared my miss and said:
“Hi!” for replying.
It seemed again, the sea said that,
it was not me once more.
I eared, who spoke with me,
whose voice I waited for?
“Hi” was the answer, and after a while,
surprisingly He asked me:
“Whose was the mystic voice that spoke?
Was it you, ... Or , maybe, it was me?”
For acquaintance I said: “I came,
because I loved you so!”
The answer was: “That I expected,
where from and how did you know?”
We kissed each other for greeting
at the dawn, when we were meeting.
I turned into the sea and wave,
I burnt as the fire and flame,
For want of my feelings flew out from me,
I was weeping a lot in the sea.
Thousands of tears were suddenly added
to those, which shedding by me.
Whose tears were they?
Were not they mine,
Or they belong to the sea?
The Sun has risen and twinkled at me,
I smiled at Him too.
“ The sea surface, - the Sun told me,–
Is curling with white beads, a white seagull,
That flies on the sea air
resembling your gray-white hair,
For this deep-white hair I imagine you.
I cannot differ too:
You look like the sea.
The nice picture I see,
isn’t it you, ...or the sea is below there?