• Atop a high cliff, on a tall rock,
    I stood there looking over the horizon.
    The sun was setting, the air was chilly
    And the waves were pounding against the shore.

    The seagulls cried to each other,
    Gossiping about the weather, their kids.
    And below them, the sea was noisy;
    As though in mourning
    For something lost.

    At last, it settles, the gulls are gone,
    The air is chillier, and I must leave.
    My village awaits me,
    The sea is calm again, and I
    Am at peace,
    Just as the ocean is.