Poezja

Come, Albatrose
and see my plight.
Ships are safe by ocean's tide
Let lifes' wings lift me out
up on thy glorious side.
 
Alas, still thou dost sail
amidst thy freedom and seest not my fall.
Thy wings are spread
Thy beauty assails
but how thy faith is small.
 
Vulturous belly
but beauteous fair
thou maiden of the sea
You fail not in thine own appitites
but in vain thou
comfortest me.