By the vastness of the sea I plead:
Oh flower of May, do not go away.
But sow your seed right here,
in the safety of my soft clay.
I promise, it will endure
more than a winters day.

And surely I know that the heart is a fickle thing.
It constantly desires what's beyond its reach,
and desire itself is known for its beseech.
Like the sea: Rivers may flow into it,
and rain may pour down.
Yet no true satisfaction
will ever be found
on this ground.

But it's within the glaciers of my soul I am bound to you.
And the soul is unchanging, eternal and true.
It's what gives its cup, the heart, its color.
And what gives your eyes their splendor.
And it's the might in the lion's roar.
It's the very core of our being.
It is the seeing.

But if you should come to doubt my sincerity.
Then let me share with you, my clarity:
I know that the die has been tossed,
Rubicon has already been crossed.

The door back is long lost.
Its key has been flung into a sea
whose width is like the width of life,
whose depth is like the depths of death.

And this was done at my soul's own behest.
Moreover, I was not the only doer, we were three.
But only those who can truly see will agree with me,
regarding the Vastness of the Sea.