"A dwarf wind passed through the small hidden beach. The forests with a deep voice whispered his name. (there is)

Small branches attacked with knives in their hands. There are faces that I don't know in the crazy waves.

First, he wiped the faces. It blew, broke the branches. He whistled into the night, talking to himself.

They had been quarrels with the moss-hearted rock before. He was afraid of his loneliness, ran until the morning"