Poems about sailboats

I had already sailed the ocean, along with the passing season.

I had already floated along with the waves, exploring the vast ocean stretching, in the guidance of the winds, guided by the constellations.

My wide, wide-stretched cast was firmly arrayed on solid wooden posts, broken, unsteady, even though the storms come over and over, every afternoon, every night.

My body is from the black wood of the jungle, in the shrine and in the shape of your unyielding ancestors.

The greatest traveler in the sea is tireless. My soul and soul united on the screens that stretched.

My inner stars, my body and my soul formed together with the surge in the chest of your formidable ancestors, splashed the waves in my stomach and the pavilion without hesitation.

The journey on the way, ihklas sailed the forces of the ocean, wrestled, knit day and moon lights.

I am destined to live in the ocean with explorers who are never afraid to go home.

And when the wind is doing friends and seagulls come to give praise and applause,

that's when I will lean back,
let go of tired while telling the land that I was the first time to wade the sea.