How appeased they are today, those waves— 
limpid, crowning shoulder-to-shoulder — 
old lovers come to linger on these sands,
companions of furious storms and Pacific languor. 

Limpid, crowning shoulder-to-shoulder, 
like us, love, they remind me of us those tides:
companions of furious storms and Pacific languor,
we walked a while along these limestone cliffs.

Like us, love, they remind me of us, those tides. 
Remember? It was late in the afternoon,
we walked a while along these limestone cliffs,
under the silver ghosts of eucalyptus trees.

Remember? It was late in the afternoon
we said, yes, yes, this is where we belong, isn’t it: 
under the silver ghosts of eucalyptus trees,
as the day blushes so frankly there, way in the west.

We said yes, yes, this is where we belong, isn’t it?
Old lovers come to linger on these sands,
as the day blushes so frankly there, way in the west.
How appeased they are today, those waves.