With waves her arms the sea is my mother,
she rocks me slowly when I am a child,
when I disobey her her senses go wild
and she keeps me away from the world.
When I love, my mother approaches
on the beach she observes and approves,
when we hug, she reclines in her moves
to leave us alone during neap tide and ebb.
With my children about to be born,
she hugged me tender and whispered a name,
every time as I called her, she came
giving strength in the rhythm she rocked me.
When I die I shall walk through the waves
finding arms that for ever will hold me
as my mother is always the sea
always there to look after me well.