Once I would embrace a beautiful pink shell, Fragrant seaweed after a storm. However lone I was, Tender waves comforted me, The crystal water cleansed me. When little feet with a straw-hat were skipping on me, I was chuckling.
But now the sea is dirty and dreadful. Dark waves are flowing over me with rubbish afloat. I'm scared covering my ears on a stormy night. I'm hugged by wastes unfamiliar languages written on them, and smeared here and there with black tar. When, coming in cars, a group of big feet are striding with cans in hands, I am crying.
I am crying, but my voice is fading. When I stop crying, That's when I become dumb with such sorrow. It is my voiceless good-bye.
Can you hear me? Can you still hear my voice? But my voice is fading.