Ēriks Ešenvalds - The Sea Wind

I am a pool in a peaceful place
I greet the great sky face to face
I know the stars and the stately moon
And the wind that runs with rippling shoon —
But why does it always bring to me
The far-off, beautiful sound of the sea?
The marsh-grass weaves me a wall of green
But the wind comes whispering in between
In the dead of night when the sky is deep
The wind comes waking me out of sleep —
Why does it always bring to me
The far-off, terrible call of the sea?

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