Today everything around me
Is like a moving picture of rough human sea.
People with fixed frozen-eyes;
Despite that some still look nice.
If spring comes, they may cry
Then melt away all artic-ices

I am the one who is struggling on the motionless sea.
Somehow that little girl with feeling looked at me,
Who came out of the deadness of the grey sea,
But the windy roughness of the sea
Almost immediately swung her away to an unknown destiny.

An endless struggle starts at the frozen Adriatic Sea:
What else does a hopeless man say, only “God help me!”
From this motionless human-sea, why did you create me?