The storm is raging all the night,
I’m listening to the while surf rumble,
And, while the beach is patched with white
Unkempt foam. I watch from a height
Great combers break their necks and crumble.

I’m sorry for the dead, at heart.
But take good care to keep apart.

A rattle of death, a groan, a roar -
I hear mad fury in them all.
No wonder: they rushed for the shore.
They gathered strength, they crossed the bar -
And broke their necks so near their goal.

I’m sorry for the dead, at heart,
But take good care to keep apart.

 
 
 
 
 

 
 

The wind again will rip and tear
The manes of foam in senseless fury.
This fence the waves will never clear -
A foot will slip, the horse will rear
And crash full length, in white foam buried.

And some will mourn for him, at heart.
But take good care to keep apart.

My turn will come one day, I know.
I’m being pushed towards the border,
Forebodings rip apart my soul -
I’ll break my neck, shan’t reach my goal;
There’s some that will not stop at murder.

And some will mourn for me, at heart,
But lake good care to keep apart.

So many folks for ages stay
Put on the beach - and just grow older
Intently studying the way
The others in the white surf play
And break their backs and necks on boulders.

They’re sorry for the dead, at heart,
But take good care to keep apart.