I do not want to be reflective any more Envying and despising unreflective things Finding pathos in dogs and undeveloped handwriting And young girls doing their hair and all the castles of sand Flushed by the childrenæs bedtime, level with the shore. The tide comes in and goes out again, I do not want To be always stressing either its flux or its permanence, I do not want to be a tragic or philosophic chorus But to keep my eye only on the nearer future And after that let the sea flow over us. Come then all of you, come closer, form a circle, Join hands and make believe that joined Hands will keep away the wolves of water Who howl along our coast. And be it assumed That no one hears them among the talk and laughter.