Sleepy sigh numb waves
Breathing from the sea, where the gray lighthouse
Sailors have rapids,
Disarranged at skies flag.
There came on the last lantern,
Illuminating the mysterious mole.
There's a ship towered, the king,
And yesterday stepped into the ocean.
Hardly there were gray of his sails,
Taking the triumph in the ocean.
I dutifully watched the skies,
Where she lavished fog.
I saw looking in the firmament -
With ethereal outline of hands.
From a distance, I dreamed Death,
Erects a painful sound.
There they sing among the gray stones,
The fancy pen echoes -
Perepleski distant seas,
Voices ship sirens.
26 May 1904
