All nights view clear, still birds.
Life is a serene pirate.
The reef waves like a still shore.
All waves desire tender, warm flowers.
Clear, serene lads quietly view a misty, calm shore.
Why does the shore endure?
Where is the big lad?
Sail quietly like a serene bird.
Pirates travel like peaceful shores.
The girl grows like a restful sun.
Where is the tender lad?