Chapter 71

Always its particles bound together, as if it were only a single wave with long, hurried strides. The murmur of its coming winds far into the distance, the migrant birds celebrate, the fish dance. On its crown the sun still hangs its light, in its fist large pearls still gleam, the naked shore, lapped by it, surrenders itself to the rush of the sea: which is only a wave with all its particles moving as one, higher than any dam, running without any secret toward one, only one future: joining!...