/>This being, that becomes.
(The island has surf around it)
From the arising of this that arises,
( When the island forms, the surf begins)
Beautiful Bassin with the Pass so mild,
Returning boats all the danger suffer,
Awaits each laden boat woman and child
Been away for many a day plying their trade,
Now returning, each asks. Is the Pass wild?
For many have drowned in its strong embrace.
Always a changing from day to day,
The sands are pushed by the currents so strong.,
Now sand, now water, now air no say!
Birds there are living, fishes too,
For the living world does not stray
From danger and change! Heartbeats strong.
In the Bassin’s waters Nature greets
And welcomes those who care. Hermits
Lived in ancient time where land sea meets.
Still there the spot where Vierge once lay.
Father THomas the statue welcomed at his feet.
The Mother of the Lord became a Shrine.
A Shrine still there and revered still
But it’s the Bassin itself thats a shrine.
Part of the bejewelled Cote d’Argent will
You continue to be? Yes ‘course everchanging
In some form it will. Do not take your fill!
It can stay if mankind abstemious ways acquires.
Await the return
From the cessation of this, that ceases.
(When the island sinks, the surf stops)
This not being, that does not become.
(No island, no surf)