Blue sea

A blue sea, an evening sunset… The wind sways the sails, the waves — Like golden sand, my years I cannot Reckon up — there were so many… Yet what’s allotted to us is so small. Later, the grains — the water will wash them away. Who gives them to us? How many do we need? Do they ever err? And… never? Perhaps they erred somewhere in the choice, And the lucky lottery ticket Was drawn by you, then later lost… Is this life served up for exchange? If the ticket was lost by you, Who will restore its former worth? How will you prove the chance of loss? Perhaps it was stolen by someone after all? And why is so much allotted to us — Exactly: neither more nor less — The years We’ve lost, both bitter and painful, That we cannot get back… Never.