The Sea

The sea, eternal and wild as thought,
Churns with a rhythm that cannot be bought;
Born of the stars in a tempestuous womb,
Where violence collides with unyielded gloom.

Oh! how it roars, and in madness unfurls,
Each wave a tale, each spray a pearl;
In its embrace lies both sorrow and bliss,
The infinite depths of love’s abyss.

Dance in its arms, be wild and be free,
For the heart of the ocean pounds steadfastly;
In the chaos we find, through tempest and grace,
The tenderness at the core of its face.

• Charles Baudelaire