O frothing ocean waves that mold the lands:
You churn and toss your head in proud acclaim.
Your playthings are the works of human hands.
Chameleon skin, your ever-changing mood,
From black to gray to green and back again;
The blue of sky is your most constant food.
You shield the hidden depths of lands unseen
And tempt the careless sailor to become
Another part of your museum-scene.
The temperamental humors of your veins
Cause you to roar and prance and then to still,
Like a proud horse under his master's reigns.
You are the perfect jewel and gem of earth;
Mother of life, who gave the song its birth.
O dancing, cresting wonders of the sea:
The endless water-stretches are your own.
You play among the winds, alone and free.
A somber creature sometimes, but you laugh
At all attempts to chart your guarded realms;
The storms, they love to froth on your behalf.
The tempests, rain and lightning are your friends,
They are your fellow guardsmen, standing watch
Over the mysteries kept from eyes of men.
You pine for sky, for places where you rest
In droplets formed to clouds, away from all
The chaos and confusion of the crest.
Your tears no mortal sees nor understands
The ageless work of your unwearied hands.
Yet through the clouds of sadness comes a light:
A music sirens dare not to purloin.
You lift your head and sing throughout the night.
O mirthful child of never-ending life,
Yet ancient in your heart, you still declare
Yourself the queen o’er ev’ry sailor’s strife.
No festive flute could keep the tune you play,
No mortal sleep infringes on your song.
Your voice awakes the sun to start the day.
A maiden full of youth and vigor true
Could not hope to match the swirling pace you set
When you dance like light in sparkling morning dew.
Your ballroom spans the world and ‘velops all
That’s hidden under stream and waterfall.