Seventeen Knots of Wind
Seventeen knots of wind, blowing off your cap,
blown askew, too, was a tall pine tree
Seventeen knots of waves, sweeping over reefs by the shore,
sweeping, too, through the heart of the sea:
a place of memories and dreams.
Seventeen knots of clouds, floating in between heaven and earth,
winding along and binding the ocean floor, like the feathers of a seagull.
Seventeen knots of sun, glinting in the waves,
Ripples through the shadow of the conifers, a mountain road in the forest.
In the little town of the fisherman, wafts an aroma of roasted meat,
Californian rockfish, an unforgettable aroma;
A sailboat moored in the harbor, rocks gently in the waves,
With an ostentatious gathering of red shrimp on the shore.
Oh! Seventeen knots of rolling green, lazily bending along the coastline,
Here I halt, watching over the sea of clouds, thinking of home!