I am that rocky shore, the shoulder where the sad waves can cry on
Although call me just a stone, books and poems and myths

I am sad because of the sad blue eyes of every wave
The sadness of the sea is like the wine of tears, and my eyes are like a wine cup

If there is no wave for a moment. I pray and ask God
Will there be a wave again in my arms?

If I slept for a moment, I had a nightmare of salt [of a dried up sea]
Which destroyed all the intoxication and dreams of the waves