The Crescent Moon: On the Seashore

On the Seashore

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.

The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is
boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet
with shouts and dances.

They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty
shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and
smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play
on the seashore of worlds.

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.
Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,
while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek
not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the
sea-beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the
children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle.
The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the
sea-beach.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams
in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water,
death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless
worlds is the great meeting of children.

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