Journey Out

[...]
The first wave of night hits the shore,
the second already reaches you.
But if you look hard,
you can still see the tree
which definitely lifts an arm
-- the wind has already knocked one off
-- and you think: how much longer,
how much longer
will the twisted timber withstand the weather?
Of land there's nothing more to be seen.
With your hand you should have dug into the sandbank
or tied yourself to the cliff with a strand of hair.
[...]