There is no thing except the sand, and me.
An endless bleaching yellowness lies here
Subject to silence and the silent Sun.
The sand has no beginning, neither end;
Around the isle have I sought end for it
And have found none, and when the wind is high
Even my footprints have been blown away
That marked one circuit ere I made the next.
Sometimes I curse the sea, but all the time
I know that she is guiltless, and I know