Right here was the ocean,
angry, petulant,
pounding its head against the rocks,
growling, crashing and roaring,
boasting of its might and power;
the reticent, modest moon
in the sky,
its friend,
kept pace with it,
the ocean yearning
to hold the moon
in its arms.

Only a few signs remain,
all else is gone;
hunched and stooping rocks,
their parched tongues sticking out,
murky water, in patches
lining a barren shore,
but the friend is loyal still;
in the shrivelling patches,
it can spot its image still.

Translated by Yasmin Hameed