In love with the earth, always drawn to shore,
sending wave after wave—and each dies
exhausted, like a Greek messenger.
At dawn only whispers reach us,
the low murmur of pebbles cast on sand
(sensed even in the fishing town’s small square).
— Adam Zagajewski, from “The Sea,” Eternal Enemies. Transl. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008)