See the stones, standing there?

Blasted by wind and rain without a care

Not so delicate it would seem

Sung to by the sea as if in surrealist dream

Feel as old things do

Unwise dreams the stuff of fools

Sand and stone soft and harsh

Sea calls softly wind blows fast 

The dead do call with smooth words

Singing songs quite absurd 

See the stones, standing there?

I ponder, walk with deliberate care

Try not to disturb the sprites that fly

Upon these winds that whisper and sigh

I taste the sea, fear her call,

Walk away before into her arms I fall.