Pine patter Shrimp

Shore wind drizzle interrupted
Whack slowly, while
Shelter under
Shrimp pine trees

Then disappeared in the direction
Bamboo huts rickety
Without the roof at the edge of the beach road

This evening ..
Nothing romantic or wishful hocus
Into an imaginary frozen
And hundreds still buried today

This beach was deserted ..
Only shrimp pine patter ..
Only a light drizzle that continued unabated
Not even a torrential rain

Nothing has changed
The beach is to transform itself into a shady, green
And in some corner of the pasture growing
There are pine shrimp, fishing boats
That ten years ago have not seen
This is a beach memories